Atoning The Past
by Lupin's Mistress
Summary: slightly AU-6th year. Based on the Severitus Challenge. Harry and Snape must deal with the fact that they are father and son as well as all the other troubles that 6th year brings with it. NO SLASH Please read and review. COMPLETE. The sequel is up.
1. The Wards and Occlumency

**Author's Note: **I didn't plan on posting this today but for some reason I kind of felt like I should put it up...I don't know...-shrug- anyway, for those who don't know me I've been around here a while and I've written tons of stuff most of which is actually pretty awful...anyhow I've mostly ever written romance even though it nearly always has action/adventure involved within it...

I have not, I have to admit written anything that actually has Harry as the main character since I started writing fan fiction back before ootp came out...so here I am back to Harry...and of course I couldn't forget my favorite character, Severus Snape...but this is going against everything I've written before...not only is Harry the main character but this has basically no romance at all...let's see how well I do at this.

About the fic: This is a severitus challenge as you've most likely read in the summary...if you aren't aware of what the challenge entails...well...read the fic and find out or go search for it on yahoo or google...

Other than that I'll most likely have pictures that go along with this fic in my profile soon...and you can find out more about me there...onto the summary which I admit may not be the best...just please give the fic a chance and review...questions are always welcome

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter One_**

_The Wards and Occlumency_

_July 9, 1996_

The clearing came into his vision, as did the dark robed and masked figures that stood in a circle and awaited their leader. Severus Snape walked to his esteemed spot next to Lucius Malfoy who stood next to a shorter figure Severus had never once seen at a death eater meeting, though there was no doubt by the way he held himself—his actual height—and that he was standing next to Lucius Malfoy, that this boy was Draco Malfoy. Severus felt a sinking feeling. Was Draco attending to get the mark himself? He kept his face expressionless as always behind his mask, but the thought was driven out of his mind when Voldemort entered the clearing, his red eyes moving from each of his death eaters, eyes resting solely on each appreciatively.

"Everyone is here, I see," Voldemort said.

Severus followed him with his eyes waiting for anything to give him even the slight clue, what he was planning; what he was feeling; his reason for the meeting—everything.

No one said anything to agree with him. He walked towards the middle of the circle and stood within it, looking around himself again.

"Severus," Voldemort said, then, his voice almost a hiss.

Severus not surprised at being called forward first, quickly walked onward and bowed to Voldemort, his movements precise—planned—though they did not appear this way to the rest of them.

"My Lord," Severus said, clearly, his voice void of any emotion but respect—hate interlaid within in it in the back of his mind.

"What news, then, from the order?" Voldemort asked casually as if the matter had ceased to be important. Severus knew better than to believe that.

"Dumbledore called a brief meeting yesterday to discuss the matter of the wards around Harry Potter's home and the reason they may be failing. He did not seem sure, of course, that they will fail undoubtedly but they are getting weaker. As for the reasons, they weren't fully given but Dumbledore clearly knows them. He, as far as I know, has not shared his concerns with anyone."

Voldemort nodded slowly but even though he seemed completely and utterly calm, Severus continued on with caution as he waited for Voldemort to say something.

"Potter's protection grows weaker," Voldemort said, finally. "Was there anything else, Severus?"

"No, My Lord, nothing that is urgent or new. They are waiting for a move from you, My Lord."

Voldemort nodded and dismissed him back to his spot a moment later, seemingly to contemplate something. Once Severus stood once more in his spot he wondered what Dumbledore had in mind telling him to share such open information with Voldemort, but he dare not pay attention to the rest of the meeting for mindless thoughts.

The meeting continued on. Severus watched as Voldemort called each and every one of his death eaters forward until only Lucius Malfoy remained uncalled.

"And now, my death eaters, the real reason for today's meeting," Voldemort said almost with glee. "One more shall be added to our ranks today."

Disregarding proper decorum, most of the death eaters looked towards Draco, standing at his father's side. Neither Malfoy seemed to notice this, but Lucius smirked when Voldemort chuckled, regaining all eyes to him.

"So, young Malfoy, shall we test this allegiance you have to me?" Voldemort asked, almost mocking.

Draco did nothing, Severus noted, but from shifted from foot to foot until his father pushed him forward, and almost stumbling, he knelt in front of Voldemort and kissed the hem of his robes. Severus could see the boy was scared, as much as he tried to hide it, but Voldemort seemed to want this from him.

"Stand up, Draco," Voldemort said.

Draco shakily stood before him.

"Before you take the mark I want you to prove yourself, Draco," Voldemort said almost gently, and then turning away from him, "Wormtail!"

Severus watched, disgusted as two muggles, both already beaten to a pulp were lead into the clearing, pulled and pushed until they were on their knees in front of Draco. Draco's eyes were wide as he pulled back from them, though his eyes remained on them—transfixed.

"Kill them," Voldemort hissed. "Kill the worthless meaningless muggles."

With his neutral expression Severus took both of the muggles in. The youngest one was seven or eight. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and blood covered part of her face, and even more than that she was holding her arm in a strange angle—broken, he knew. Her companion was in a worse condition, his clothes were practically in shreds, his eyes weren't streaming tears but crimson blood. Terrible gashes covered part of his face, and he was trembling. Severus recognized the after affect of the cruciatus. His eyes moved away from the victims and towards Draco.

Draco looked paler now than ever. His eyes remained trained on the two muggles in front of him, but he did nothing.

"Kill them, Draco," Voldemort said.

Draco opened his mouth. "I—" He looked away finally, his eyes seeking his father.

Severus looked to Lucius as well and noticed the strange way he clenched his fists and held himself. Had it then not been Lucius' idea to bring Draco to Voldemort? He glanced at Lucius from time to time, but his eyes were trained on Draco for the most part.

"Kill them," Voldemort insisted, this time his voice had a dangerous hint to it.

Draco didn't seem to realize this but he lifted his wand regardless, but the words didn't want to come to him, he didn't want to kill them.

"Kill them," Voldemort repeated, almost giddy.

Severus followed Draco's expression as he pointed his wand directly at the victims.

"Ava—" Draco began, shakily, but before he could continue Voldemort had placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

Severus looked to Lucius who looked calmer than before, now, but still tense and worried. Draco stood in front of Voldemort cringing at the hand on his shoulder. When it dropped, however, his facial expression did not change and then Voldemort was bringing out his wand and shooting the killing curse at the two muggles. Voldemort laughed, and then he was pulling Draco's left arm toward him, pressing his wand hard against his pale white skin.

"Morsmorde," Voldemort hissed, watching the dark mark appear on Draco's skin.

Draco screamed in agony, his features twisted. Voldemort let go of his arm. Draco fell to the ground, clutching his burning arm. Voldemort was laughing.

"Collect your son, Lucius," Voldemort said, then, and dismissed them.

Severus heard the sounds of disapparition around him, and noticed Voldemort too had left, before he approached the Malfoys, while reaching into his robes to pull out two potions.

"Here, take these," He offered Draco.

Lucius was the one to take them, however, before uncorking each phial and putting them at Draco's lips.

Draco gulped down each potion and felt immediately better though he said nothing.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius said. "We—we should get going, Draco, come here."

Severus watched as father and son apparated together leaving him in the clearing alone. With a quick shake of his head he too turned on the spot and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy was a death eater and he didn't seem particularly happy about it, but it was news to the order that he needed to get to them at that very moment.

-

-

-

_July 17, 1996_

Harry Potter woke up to the sound of gentle knocking coming from the door to his bedroom. Confused yet curious, Harry opened the door to the hallway and found himself looking at a smiling Remus Lupin who stood next to an overly exuberant Nymphadora Tonks who styled electric blue colored hair and violet eyes. For a moment Harry found himself wondering how the Dursley's had taken seeing her like this.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks said.

"Hi," Harry returned. "What are you two doing here?"

Tonks ignored the question and instead stepped into the room, bringing out her wand. "I'll start packing your things, then," She said.

"We're here to take you to headquarters. We just managed to get the place back to sorts; after Sirius"—he gave Harry a calculating look—"died we weren't completely sure about how the house would be of use to us. He had been prepared for this—who isn't at times of war—and he overrode the magic that would give all his belongings to his relatives to leave them to you. Everything was determined to be fine, Dumbledore added a few more spells and luckily we can still use the place."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure if he wanted to ever set foot in 12 Grimmauld Place ever again even though now he was pretty sure that he would have to. It was his house now, not Sirius'.

Tonks had managed to put nearly all of Harry's things in his trunk and was finally just gathering a last few things when Remus spoke again.

"I'm proud of you, Harry," He said, almost as if he didn't want to bring the subject up but felt he had to. "I am very pleased at just how well you are coping with the events that took place in the Ministry. Sirius would also be very proud of you, you know."

Harry could say nothing, but he didn't think Remus expected him to say anything. He couldn't tell Remus how much it had hurt, how he had practically locked himself in his room every day and even skipped meals, and that until a week ago he hadn't even bothered to clean his room, not that it was a mess, but he could spot a number of things throughout the room that should have been put in the trash.

"Done," Tonks announced.

Harry grinned as she levitated his trunk out the door and followed with Remus.

"Where are the Dursleys?"

"They left the house right after we arrived. I don't think they liked my hair," Tonks said.

Harry grinned, before asking his next question. "How are we getting there?"

"Portkey," Remus answered, looking at his watch. "In fact, it should activate in two minutes." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of ribbon.

Tonks took one end of it while Remus held onto the other. She pulled the trunk towards her and laid a hand on it, while Harry reached to touch the remaining part of the ribbon. It didn't take long for it to activate and then they were in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Only two other people were in the kitchen—Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape. The former smiled with the ever-present twinkle in his eyes; Snape did the opposite—he scowled.

"No trouble, I take it?" Dumbledore asked.

"None," Tonks said, taking a seat.

Snape sneered at her and she stuck her tongue out at him. Remus shook his head at them before he waved his wand at Harry's trunk.

"Take a seat, Harry," Dumbledore offered. "There is something we need to talk about.

Harry nodded and sat next to Tonks, directly across from Snape whom was now watching him impassively.

"The wards around number four Privet Drive have begun to become weaker ever since the events that took place in the department of mysteries," Dumbledore said.

"But how, I thought as long as I believed that was my home it would continue working."

No one said anything, and then it was Snape who spoke, even though it was clearly only directed at the headmaster. "What did Black do in order for Potter to receive this house? Could that have intervened?"

Dumbledore frowned. "I don't quite believe that would have, but Sirius must have done something."

"And quite like always the rest of us must clean up his messes," Snape remarked.

Harry said nothing but he glared at his potions professor.

"Severus," Albus said as if in warning, before he changed the subject. "We must once more bring up the subject of occlumency Harry. Have there been any dreams concerning him?"

"No. My scar throbs occasionally but that is to be expected, now, it comes with his moods. He felt particularly happy last Wednesday."

They were all looking at him. Dumbledore was amused; Remus and Tonks looked worried; Snape at first seemed confused and surprised but then his face was a blank.

"When it starts to hurt I usually get some sort of feel at his emotions, sometimes everything is too much for him that I'm able to discern why he's feeling. This time around he was just simply happy about something, but it wasn't too strong."

Dumbledore gave Harry a smile before standing. "Professor Snape will once more attempt to teach you occlumency this summer, Harry, you shall start tonight by learning to trust each other."

Harry frowned. "But—" He began only to be cut off.

"Unlike you, Potter, the headmaster does have things to do other than hear your complaints," Snape said only to receive an irritated glance from both Remus and Dumbledore.

"Severus," Dumbledore once more said in warning.

The potions master nodded, but said nothing more. Harry had the impression of a sulking child and fought hard to not laugh at the thought that had crossed his mind. After saying good-bye to the headmaster and watching him floo back to Hogwarts, Harry turned to Remus and Tonks.

"I've got to go as well," Tonks announced. "Kingsley most likely wants me back by now." She smiled at Harry with a wink and also stepped into the fireplace.

"And I shall leave the two of you to bond, and put your trunk in your room, Harry." With that said Remus walked out of the room, with the trunk floating behind him.

Harry didn't know what to say, so instead of saying anything he remained silent, staring at the table. He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and glared at Snape who merely gave him a look.

"Come along, Potter, we have much to do, and little time to accomplish it in," Severus said in a low tone.

-

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-

Two hours later found Harry sitting in the library of Sirius's—his—house, sitting in a comfortable chair sipping his second glass of firewhiskey while his least favorite professor sat in the chair opposite his, nursing his own glass. They hadn't really talked, but they hadn't fought either, which was something.

"Potions, Potter," announced Snape suddenly. "Is a precise art, much like occlumency, I fear, because of your deficiency at Potions that you may never understand occlumency properly."

Harry shot him a glare. "If you were a better teacher I could probably get it right. All you did was yell at me, you know, you never told me what to do."

Snape considered him. "Learn by experience," Severus said. "It was how I was taught and it was how I attempted to teach you. I imagine, now, maybe I should have explained more about how to do it."

Harry merely nodded and set his glass on a table next to him. "I didn't try to learn," He admitted. "I wanted to see what was behind that door." He looked away from Snape and added, "If I hadn't wanted to believe everything in those dreams Sirius would never have died. No one says it but I think we all know it, it was my fault he died."

"Don't be so arrogant to believe that the death of that mutt was anything less than of his own doing," Severus said, almost with silent understanding.

Harry blinked at him but said nothing as he remembered what Hermione had said when he had said that to her in a letter. Her reply had been five pages long describing how Sirius' death had not been his fault. But it hadn't been her letter that had finally allowed him to get over it. Instead it had been when he had thought about Sirius' character that his decision to stop sulking had become possible. Sirius would have wanted him to live instead of mourn him for the rest of his days.

"You are willing to learn, now, then?" Severus said, breaking into his thoughts.

"I guess," Harry said, adding, after a moment, "If you're a good teacher."

Snape gave an almost imperceptive nod, and then he stood up. "It comes then to point out that we both shall need to work at this then, and it should best begin here." With that said, he walked towards a shelf. "Occlumency," He said a moment later, muffled almost. "Takes meticulous discipline. You must want it, and you must work hard at it."

Harry said nothing, but stood up, left his glass on a table and walked into the rows of shelves. Snape was holding a number of books and still looking at more.

"Here," Snape handed him half of the books he had taken. "It does not surprise me that there are so few books on the subject."

"Few?" Harry asked.

Snape gave him a look and took two more books. "Back to our chairs now, I think."

Harry set the books down on the floor next to his chair, and grabbed the first book. "You're almost as bad as Hermione," He muttered when he noticed Snape had already begun writing things down on a spare piece of parchment and yet he hadn't even opened the book he had on his lap.

Snape glared at him. "Do not compare me to that bushy haired know-it-all."

Harry laughed but said nothing while he looked at the contents of the book. "Does this have anything to do with occlumency?" He asked.

"It's about memories, is it not?" Snape asked, glancing at the cover of the book Harry was holding.

"Yes, but that isn't going to help me, is it?"

Snape glowered at him. "If it wasn't going to help, I would not have you the book, just read it."

Harry didn't argue further as he began to read the first chapter which spoke about how certain memories when brought to the forth most part of your mind they could compromise any dire situation if they were emotionally painful. As Harry read he continued to make the certain connections that had obviously been reason enough for him to read this book. As he continued reading, he couldn't help to look at Snape across from him.

"I'm sorry," Harry heard himself say.

Snape looked up, giving him a piercing look.

"I shouldn't have gone into your penseive, last year, I felt awful after that, but it opened my eyes to who my father was. I never told anyone, not my friends anyhow, just Sirius and Remus but I needed to know more about him. Sirius excused it as his age but that isn't an excuse."

Snape was watching him with a strange expression on his face and then he said in almost a whisper, "You're not your father." And then he was leaving the room, his robes billowing behind him.

Harry looked after him and laughed when a strange thought crossed his mind. How did Snape make his robes do that?

**Author's Note: **Well...here's to hoping all of you that clicked on this fic have enjoyed it and that you will not proceed to give me a nice little review...lol...I really would love it if some of you did...anyhow hope you enjoyed it...chapter two will most likely be up next weekend otherwise the weekend after...please review!

-Erika


	2. Birthday Surprises Part 1

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews guys! Glad you're liking the fic...here's some more for you to enjoy...

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Two_**

_Birthday Surprises (Part 1)_

_October 15, 1981_

James Potter glared at the blank piece of parchment sitting in front of him. Only three words were written on the page, and they had yet to give him inspiration for the letter he was writing.

"Any luck with that, sweetheart?" Lily Potter asked, running one of her hands through his messy hair while her other arm supported their one year old son who looked exactly like his father.

"No," James groaned. "I just don't know how to begin—what to explain."

Lily smiled sadly. "It's a precaution, James," Lily said. "We can only hope that he won't have to read this, that we'll be there to explain everything to him."

James nodded slowly. "Has he been good this morning?"

Lily smiled at her son fondly. "When is this wonderful boy ever not good?" She asked.

"He takes after his father," James said.

Lily's smile grew. "I'm so happy you can accept this so easily," She said.

James ran both his hands through his hair making the already messy hair messier, if that was possible. "How could I not, Lils, with this amazing boy for our son." James took Harry from his mother and set him down on his lap. Harry almost immediately reached for James' glasses and took them off, waving them around before he threw them to the ground.

"What have we told you, Harry?" Lily asked as she retrieved the glasses. "No playing with your father's glasses."

Harry chortled happily as if nothing had gone wrong and reached out for his mother. Lily's kind green eyes looked at the parchment in front of James as she took Harry once more in her arms.

"Maybe telling him how much we love him," Lily said gently. "He'd want to know how much his father loved him if we were to die before he could understand our love for him."

"Always the smart one, Lily, it is why I married you," James told his wife and then he began writing once more, this time knowing just a little more of what he wanted to say.

-

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_July 17, 1996_

"He just left as if the entire world made sense to him," Harry told Remus.

He had found the lycanthrope cleaning Sirius' old room; mere moments after Snape had left.

"Ah, well," Remus said with a sigh. "I was going to have you help me with this stuff tomorrow before your lesson but we can very well start today. A lot of the stuff in here is from back before he even moved out of here to your father's, he couldn't very well take it all with him. He was surprised when he found most of it still here."

Harry nodded. He'd been in the room only a couple of times; both had been while Sirius was alive. He had believed that entering the house where Sirius had been practically imprisoned would be hard and hurt him, but it hadn't been, instead, entering the house had almost given him more closure, but his room—even seeing it—drove a hole into his chest. He didn't allow Remus to see this in his expression but continued into the room.

"Where are we putting all this stuff?" Harry asked, looking towards Remus.

"Up in the attic. I thought maybe you'd like to have his room," Remus said.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think I could handle it, really, I rather stay in the room I shared with Ron."

Remus smiled gently. "Alright. I wasn't sure, you know, if you wanted it or not. I was expecting something completely different from you. You're even getting along with Severus."

Harry snorted. "No one but the headmaster could get along with him," He laughed. "But I did grow up this summer. After he died I spent a lot of my time alone brooding but then I realized he wouldn't have wanted that, and then once deaths began to be reported on the Prophet I figured with a war going on out there that I could be next and if I was, I would have wasted a long time just away from my friends."

Remus was looking at him strangely and then he was hugging him, but before he could open his mouth to say anything a silky voice came from the doorway.

"Excuse me for interrupting such a sickeningly sweet moment, but I do believe we have work to do, Potter."

Harry flushed and couldn't look at Remus as he walked to the potions professor.

"I really am proud of you," Harry heard Remus say before he followed Snape once more to the library.

-

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Harry was nearly halfway through the book. Snape had finished two books and was starting on a third; he was also unusually quiet and kept giving Harry strange glances.

"What?" Harry asked when Snape had done this for the fifth time.

Snape considered him, opening his mouth to speak, but then he said nothing. Harry had found his both irritating and confusing.

They worked in silence until voices from the first floor drifted towards them.

"Is there an order meeting?" Harry asked.

"No, Potter, I do believe those are your friends," Snape said almost as if he hated the very idea of Harry's friends being in the house. "No, matter, it is almost time for dinner, but I will like to impress upon you the importance of learning this. Has the book been helpful at all as to controlling your emotions? We will attempt something more practical tomorrow, I believe."

Harry nodded and after marking his page closed his book and stood up, he made to walk to the door but noticed the potions master remained seated with his book.

"Aren't you going to eat, Professor?"

Snape shook his head. "Go greet your friends, Mr. Potter, I have no place with half the people that have arrived."

"Are you staying here, as in for the night?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Potter, it will make it that much easier to work with you that way. Now go before I decide you need to keep me company, terrible as your company may be, now go, you are welcome—in fact I encourage it—to read the book about memories and any other we pulled off the shelves."

Harry nodded slowly, but frowned as he was leaving the room. Severus Snape was something. He had always appeared to be an evil bastard—to put it plainly—but then there was another side to him. The sarcastic funny side that while still harsh at times was easier to understand and deal with, and yet he seemed to hate anything social. Harry found himself almost pitying him, but he couldn't quite allow himself to, not when he knew Snape didn't need anyone's pity.

Harry's thoughts went astray when Hermione shouted his name and then he was lying on his back and he heard Hermione groan an, "I'm sorry" while in the background Ron was laughing with Ginny.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said once she was standing and holding out a hand for him.

Harry took her hand and brushed himself off. "You're not allowed to hug me, anymore," He told Hermione. "I fear you'll kill me that way."

They all laughed.

"It's just so good to see you, Harry, really," Hermione said. "So early in the summer too, what's happened? We were all really surprised Dumbledore had sent Lupin to get you."

"Something about my mother's protection no longer working. Snape said it may be about how Sirius got around the spells that would make this house Bellatrix's in favor of it becoming mine as

according to his will. It could have messed around with how I see the place, but I don't see how, either way I had to come here. So, how about you three? Are you staying here for the rest of the summer?"

"Nah," Ron said. "Mom doesn't want us to distract you, apparently you'll be quite busy this summer. Anyway, we're only here for dinner tonight, we're staying until tomorrow night."

Ginny spoke next, coming to stand next to Harry. "Do you know what you'll be working on?"

Harry considered telling them, but talking about occlumency would lead Hermione to bring up Sirius and the letter of earlier in the summer that he wished to put behind them. So instead of telling them he would be working on his occlumency with Snape he shook his head.

"You'll find out soon enough," Hermione said. "But come on, we should go to the kitchen I promised to help Lupin."

Harry grinned. "You know how to cook?"

Hermione said nothing but lead the others to the kitchen.

Harry was appreciative of his friends, he really was, and truth be told he was glad for everything they had ever helped him with throughout his years at Hogwarts, but he was still trying to figure out if telling them about the prophecy would be a good idea. So far only he and Dumbledore knew about it unless the order had been informed and he doubted Dumbledore had told them.

-

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-

"Is Severus coming down, Harry? Merlin knows when the man eats." Remus asked half an hour later, after the meal had been completed.

"No, I don't think so, he was pretty engrossed in some book," Harry said. "I pointed out earlier that he was almost as bad as Hermione when it came to researching and he was completely offended," Harry replied in an undertone. "Oh, Remus, I don't want to bring the subject of occlumency back up with them, could we not talk about it. It's just—"

Remus lifted a hand. "Don't worry about it, Harry."

Harry smiled and went to take his seat next to Ron. "Are we expecting anyone else?" He asked.

"Tonks and Kingsley said they might come by, but seeing as Kingsley took over for Scrimgeour as head of the Auror office in the department of MLE he's been kept busy, not as busy as Scrimgeour—mind—he is trying to rectify Fudge's mistakes and is doing as good as job as any, but they might not make it."

"MLE?" Hermione asked.

"Magical Law Enforcement," Ron told her.

Dinner was more fun than anything Harry had done since the beginning of the summer. Ron had told stories about Fred and George's new products and the shop they had obtained in Diagon Alley, which he had yet to visit but knew would be great regardless. Ginny brought up quidditch which served for conversation for the better part of an hour, at least between the two Weasley siblings and occasionally Harry whom had also become interested in Hermione's and Remus' discussion on werewolf rights and how the narrow-mindedness of the ministry was giving Voldemort more and more allies this way.

"It's preposterous!" Hermione exclaimed. "With the use of the wolfsbane, which the ministry could easily distribute to the werewolves on every full moon they wouldn't have to worry about anything."

Remus chuckled. "Ah, but that is the thing, Hermione," Remus said. "Even if the ministry managed to have wolfsbane for every werewolf in Britain, not many would go for it. They'd be telling the ministry who they are and they would be the first blamed for any attack despite the wolfsbane. The thing is, the ministry is scared and werewolves are dark creatures for the most part, that many join Voldemort isn't even questioned and now they have a leader."

"A leader?" Harry asked. "But I thought most of them just roamed free."

Hermione turned to him, "For the most part yes, sometimes werewolves mate with other werewolves but it isn't very common, and then there are occasions where some live together because of what they are, but most like to live life as normal as possible."

Remus smiled at Hermione. "Hermione's completely correct. As for their leader, Grayback is not a death eater but he's good as. He works with Voldemort at least but werewolves, while they are promised freedom in this new world he is building, are not good enough to receive his mark."

-

-

-

_July 30, 1996_

"Love you, mum," Harry Potter whispered, wishing—not for the first time—that he could actually express the sentiment to his mom, than that of her picture, even though that was—he knew—an impossible feat considering that both his parents were dead. Harry closed the leather bound book—a gift from Hagrid at the end of his first year—and placed it on the table in front of him before glancing at the muggle digital clock he had found in Sirius' room while cleaning, that would tell him in the matter of minutes that it was his sixteenth birthday.

He'd been a bit thoughtful lately concerning the whole birthday thing and everything that this particular birthday meant—that the last year was over and he could move on. He stared at the clock for longer than necessary and sighed at the slow movement of time.

It was strange, he realized, how slow two minutes seemed in comparison to two weeks, even with spending most of his time in the library with Snape whom he had come to trust more. It had begun on the first day they had begun using occlumency.

"So, how are we going to do this?" Harry asked.

Snape had taken a long look at him before answering, "As you read in the book I gave you last night, the best way is to have a meeting of our minds. So, what you will do first is remove any memories that you do not wish for me to witness."

Harry shook his head. They hadn't brought the topic of the last time they had attempted occlumency up since Harry had apologized the first day, so Harry didn't feel particularly good at bringing the subject up.

"What have you not seen in my mind? The last few months after we stopped the last time? There's no point."

"There isn't anything you rather not replay in your mind tonight?"

Harry's first thought was the prophecy, and his eyes widened. Snape surely didn't know about that. He nodded slowly, no other memory coming to mind.

"Just the one memory," Harry said.

Snape nodded, and pulled out his wand. "I'll just put it in this phial for the time being. The way this works is that you won't know what the memory is, but you'll realize it's missing, as if you forgot it. Just think about that memory now and nothing else."

Harry did as he was told and felt Snape press his wand against his temple and then the memory was pulled away and he found himself wondering what he had just been thinking about before coming to his senses and remembering that he had done this to protect his knowledge of the prophecy.

"Is there nothing else you do not wish me to see?"

Harry shook his head. He was sure Snape had already seen everything anyhow.

"Alright." Snape seemed almost nervous.

Harry looked up into Snape's black eyes. "How—" Harry began but stopped when he felt Snape's hands come to his face, touching the sides of his face gently.

"Relax," Snape said. "Just allow everything to flow through your mind normally. Allow yourself to calm down. Keep your eyes open. Don't think just be."

It was his voice that finally made him relax, the silky, calm undertone that he had never heard in his potions class; the almost comforting tone of his voice that seemed nearly meant for him.

"Legilimens," Snape muttered.

Harry felt memories drift between them. Some were his; the others were Snape's. He saw a pale scared woman standing in front of a sallow skinned, thin boy with overly large clothes, with a bloody nose. Then in a flash Harry was seeing a younger version of himself, five—maybe four—years old crying, crouched in his cupboard. Another number of memories flashed between them and then they were in the department of mysteries. Bella and Sirius were fighting and then Sirius was falling back.

"NO!"

Sirius dead. Bella laughing. Pain.

"Potter, Potter."

Someone was calling his name.

He couldn't cast the cruciatus.

"Potter! Harry!"

Harry blinked. He was gasping and until he reached up to right his glasses he hadn't even noticed the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

"I thought that was the memory I took out," Snape said from somewhere next to him.

Harry didn't trust himself to be able to say anything, specially considering what had just happened, what Snape had seen him do—crying of all things.

"Now I wonder what you did take out of your mind," Snape said. "Clearly it had to be important."

Harry wiped his eyes a final time with the sleeve of his shirt. "I wasn't thinking about him. I forgot about that memory, the possibility of…of it coming up."

Harry glared at the clock; there was still a minute left. He was still thinking about Sirius now, after bringing the memory forth in his mind that day. It had been his fault. That much no one would admit, but it wasn't as if he didn't know—didn't expect that they didn't think so, not even Snape held him at fault.

Harry stood up and stretched, walking from one side of the room to the other. He sighed. It would be the beginning after midnight. He would grow up. He would change for the better even if it meant going to someone for help when he needed it, like he had needed it the year before. If he had just gone to Snape, or remembered the mirror, or…done a number of other things everything could have been different.

Snape. Harry sighed. He didn't know what to think about the man anymore. He was better, now, probably on Dumbledore's orders but he had begun to see him not in any new particular way, but he'd seen something different about the man.

He took another glance at the clock, and smiled—it was midnight. Officially—or maybe still unofficially—he was sixteen.

Harry grabbed his book and put the clock back in its place. He left the kitchen and walked down the hall to stairs. He did not get far before the door to the house was opened and Harry saw the outline that couldn't be mistaken for anyone else stumble into the foyer.

"Professor!" Harry gasped and rushed forward.

Snape grasped his shoulder. "Harry?" He questioned.

"Sh-should I get Remus?" Harry asked, dropping his photo album on the floor, as he led the obviously hurt potions master to the drawing room.

Harry gently put his professor on the couch.

"What should I do?" Harry asked quickly.

"Get Lupin, then floo Dumbledore," Snape said, shakily.

Harry nodded. "Right." And then he was running up the stairs to Remus' room.

The door was closed but Harry didn't knock instead he rushed into the room and to the bed against the wall. "Remus, wake up!" Harry said, shaking the last remaining marauder.

"Wh-what is it? Harry, what's wrong?" Remus rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed.

"Snape. He's hurt or something, he was shaking terribly. Anyway he told me to call you and that I should floo the headmaster afterwards. He's in the drawing room."

Remus stood up quickly and put on his shoes before grabbing his robes and throwing them on.

"Quickly, Harry, something is going on no doubt and it must be important. Go floo Dumbledore, I'll be down in a minute."

Harry nodded, watching Remus walk to another room down the hall before he once more headed to the kitchen, grabbing floo powder from a colorful jar next to the fire.

"Dumbledore's office!" Harry shouted and stuck his head in the fire.

In mere moments he was looking at the floor of the headmaster's office. He couldn't help but remember the last time he had been there, but pushed the thoughts away.

"Professor Dumbledore! Headmaster!"

A minute after he had called for him, Dumbledore was kneeling before him.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked concerned.

"Professor Snape told me to call for you, he's hurt, I think, Remus is with him," Harry said quickly.

"I shall be there shortly, Harry," Dumbledore said. "And, Harry, happy birthday."

Harry nodded but pulled back out of the fire, shaking himself slightly before he walked back to the drawing room.

Snape was drowning a purple potion when Harry entered. "He said he'd be here shortly. Are you alright, Professor."

Snape merely glared at him but nodded slightly.

"That's all I can do, Severus," Remus told him.

Snape nodded and opened his mouth to say something but there was a loud crack suddenly, followed by the sound of something falling on the floor above.

"What was that?" Snape asked.

Remus shrugged. "I'll go check it out," He offered, leaving Harry alone with Snape.

"It was Voldemort, wasn't it? You went to a meeting with him, that's how this happened. He tortured you."

Snape nodded. "He wasn't happy with the lack of information on when you left your muggle relatives. Needless to say, the wards fell completely tonight and Voldemort thought to attack the house."

Harry gasped. "Are—what about my aunt and uncle?"

Snape closed his eyes. "I'm sorry to say that the whole house was destroyed, including everyone living inside it."

Harry nodded slowly. He couldn't believe it. The Dursleys were dead, just because of him, and yet he couldn't feel bad about it, not like how he had felt when Sirius had died or even when Cedric had died. But there was a feeling, he just couldn't identify it, and then it hit him. It was relief.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I did not know you felt anything akin to caring for them."

Harry laughed. "It's not that I feel bad, I mean I do, but it's just I can't help but feel relief, and maybe that isn't a good thing to feel when you hear someone you knew had died."

Harry had been looking at the wall while he spoke but he looked at his potions professor when he was finished.

"You forget that I know how they treated you," Snape said. "I can understand your relief. My father, when he died, it could have been one of the best days of my life."

Harry made to reply but Remus had come back. "A birthday present for Harry," Remus said. "I imagine Sirius arranged it,"—he frowned, looking at Harry—"Something left by your parents. There was nothing dangerous about it, as far as I could tell but Dumbledore should take a look at it first."

Harry was shocked more than anything but he said nothing, and then Dumbledore was entering the room.

"What has happened, Severus?" He asked. "I suspect this is urgent."

Snape nodded and begun, "I was called for the meeting at—" Dumbledore cut him off.

"Harry, this is order business, I do believe you should be in bed."

Remus taking a cue from that took Harry's shoulder and steered him towards the door but stopped when Snape spoke.

"No, Lupin, let the boy stay. This is as much his business as it is anyone else. Have we learnt nothing from what happened last year? If he is to be involved"—He shot Dumbledore a glare—"then he should have as much information as possible. He works better knowing things than not." He and the headmaster shared one more look and then Dumbledore nodded.

Harry found the entire exchange strange enough. Why did Snape want him to stay? Why did he care enough that he have information that was supposed to be for order members only?

**Author's Note: **I know Snape is slightly OOC...I mean he's getting along with Harry pretty quickly and what not...so if you're slightly bothered by that please do stick around...there is so much coming...and I know exactly what I'm doing...I just hate when someone dtells me that one of my characters is acting differently than normal...but guess what you don't know about character as to how I developed it...anyways read and review...and hope you enjoy it...and tell your friends...lol...

-Erika


	3. Birthday Surprises Part 2

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story...

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Three_**

_Birthday Surprises (Part 2)_

_July 30, 1996_

Severus Snape hissed in pain. The book he had been holding fell with a thump to the ground, but he didn't look to the book, instead he had pulled his sleeve up and his eyes rested on the mark that burned against his arm, the snake moving—slithering—on his arm, attached to the skull. He grimaced, gritting his teeth and then as if coming to a decision he was up and he was walking out of the room, through the doors, down the stairs. As he went he brought out his wand and he changed his clothes with a flick of it, his mask appearing in his hand.

He could hear no one was awake even though there was a light from the kitchen. He ignored it, however, and instead walked out the door and apparated from the step.

They were mostly already there, except for two of their group. Severus knew who they were immediately from the spots that were left open. Nott and McNair had gotten a mission during the last meeting and it appeared they were not back yet.

"Late, Severus," Voldemort said.

Severus said nothing until he was standing next to Draco who once more stood stiff next to his father, though this time he had the cover of his death eater garment to hide more of his facial expressions if anything.

"I am sorry, master, for arriving late but I was not in the position to leave the moment I felt your call."

He had been stupid to let his thoughts get the best of him. He hadn't been sleeping great lately or at all. He could blame that on Harry Potter—the occlumency lessons were affecting him far more than he wanted to admit.

"At eleven o'clock in the evening, Severus?"

If he had felt any fear at the almost calm voice that Voldemort was using Severus did not show it. "Yes. I was brewing with Poppy Pomfrey for the infirmary." He said, his voice unwavering.

Voldemort seemed to have taken the excuse, but he said nothing to admit he did. Severus, however, knowing fully well how the dark lord's mind worked knew he had taken it and felt better, even though now he knew that anything would get him tortured.

"Did you know, Severus, that the wards around Potter's home weakened a great deal on this night? That at this very moment they are getting so weak that I could probably walk into them."

This was news to Severus. The shocked expression that came to his face was not fake.

"Ah, I see you did not know," Voldemort said. "Pity for Harry Potter, then."

Severus took a moment before asking the question. "Are you attacking his home tonight?" He asked casually.

"Nott," He announced to all of them. "Has taken a group of death eaters to four Privet Drive, in fact he should be back now with Potter."

Severus nodded, but said nothing.

"It is perhaps an interesting fact, that on the night—mere hours—before Harry Potter's birthday that the boy should die. A fitting present for the boy, I believe." He laughed, his death eaters joined him.

Severus did not laugh, but he noticed the fake sound to Lucius Malfoy's and the fact that Draco Malfoy did not laugh but clasped his hands together, wringing them.

Their cruel laughter had died out before the crack of apparition came from somewhere to the left of Severus, and he could see, as had been expected that the man had come empty handed.

"He wasn't there, My Lord," He said. "Potter was gone, none of his belongings remained. He was simply gone. We killed his aunt and uncle; his cousin threw himself out the window and died instantly. The house was burnt, by the time we were gone aurors had arrived but none of your faithful have been caught. I dismissed them, My Lord, soon after and came straight here."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. Severus already knew what was coming. He accepted it; it was part of the role he played. He could do nothing about it, but take it in stride and he was ready. The spell was shot at him, no explanation was needed, they both knew what it was about. Severus had withheld information in the eyes of Voldemort, and even if he had not had the information, he should have had some idea as to what was happening.

Pain wrestled through him—excruciatingly he screamed. He felt as if his body was burning and needles were being pushed into every inch of his skin, and then the spell stopped.

Severus remained on the ground for a couple of minutes before he stood up gingerly. He held himself as normally as possible, ignoring the pain that still ran through him.

Voldemort had already finished punishing Nott and then he was calling Lucius forward. Severus couldn't hear what Lucius had said but then he was writhing on the ground and his screams echoed around them.

-

-

-

_July 31, 1996_

They were still sitting in the drawing room, even though Snape had finished telling them the events of the meeting. Dumbledore was staring into the fire, while Remus looked thoughtfully at Snape. Snape had his eyes closed and was looking at the ceiling, calmly, even though Harry knew that the man couldn't possibly be calm. From time to time he could still see him shudder—after effects of the cruciatus.

"Albus," Remus broke in a moment later.

Dumbledore turned to look at Remus. "Yes?"

"If there is nothing else, a box arrived for Harry earlier, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it, but it would be best if you checked for any spells I might have missed."

Dumbledore nodded. "Where is it?"

"Harry's room," Remus answered and walked to the door, leading Dumbledore out of the room.

Harry looked after them and continued staring at the door long after that. He shifted in his chair and looked away from the door, surprised to meet Snape's eyes on him.

"Why?" Harry found himself asking.

"Why did I let you stay," Snape said. "What I said to the headmaster is true. Black often said, during meetings, that you needed to be told at least certain things, but there are many people that care for you who do not understand the difference between what you need and what they want you to need.

"Molly Weasley and many others felt you needed a childhood, you needed to just be not with so many worries. It's clear to me that you need something like this too but you can't have it, and that is stronger. To protect you from knowledge of what is going on would be like handing you to him."

Harry frowned, but said nothing and allowed Snape to continue, but Snape did not but instead he stood up and walked to the window.

"I hated you," Snape said. "Hated you for who I thought you were. Misconceptions on my part but for the last two weeks, sharing the thoughts we have shared, I understand who and what you are, Potter—Harry—, and maybe this changed what I know is needed for this war." With that said Snape turned and left the room.

Harry once more wondered—like he had in the past few weeks—if Severus Snape knew about the prophecy, it wasn't like he could be completely sure Dumbledore had told no one.

Harry entered his room a few minutes later to find Dumbledore pointing his wand at a medium sized wooden box.

"Nothing on it as far as I can tell, except for the remnants of a time-send spell. Can't be completely sure as to the time it was put on but it seems perfectly fine."

Remus nodded while stifling a yawn. "I'll be heading off to bed then," he announced. "Night, Harry."

Harry nodded and watched him go.

"It is a precious thing, a gift from someone in the past or the future," Dumbledore told Harry and turned to leave the room.

"Professor," Harry said.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Who knows about the prophecy other than the two of us, that is?" Harry asked.

"Professor Snape. Sirius also knew it, as did your parents. No other order members have heard it, and they won't unless they need to."

Harry nodded and said nothing else. He shouldn't be so surprised that Snape not only knew about it, but also knew what it was. Dumbledore trusted Snape beyond anyone else, which had always been something that bothered him before but now didn't bother him in the least.

Dumbledore left the room and Harry listened to his footsteps recede before he turned to the box and set it down on his bed, opening it. The first thing he noticed was the worn thin black leather bound book which sat next to two potions phials filled to the rim by something he recognized as memories. Harry reached for the book first, knowing he would have to wait for the morning to view the memories if Snape was in any sort of good mood. Despite the fact that he and the potions master were on better terms these days, their relationship was far from a good one. Snape was still a snarky bastard even if Harry was starting to recognize more of his more morbid humor.

Harry had been wary of diaries and journals since his second year but this one did not seem to have any sort of dark magic interlaid with it, so as he opened it, Harry was not in particular worried as to what would be written inside.

The first page was blank but Harry found an envelope in between the cover and that page. He decided to open the envelope first and read what was inside it before proceeding with the book, so with that thought with trembling fingers he opened the envelope and pulled out five pieces of folded parchment. He unfolded them, slowly, and quickly looked for the signature of whoever had send him this, when he found it he dropped the pieces of parchment and with eyes wide, hands shaking, and a number of thoughts running through his head, Harry picked up the letter and took in the three words at the beginning of the letter.

_My Dearest Son,_

Harry felt a tear roll down his cheek and wiped it away. He folded the letter and threw it back into the box with the book, closing it and setting it down gently underneath his bed so he didn't have to see it. He wouldn't read the letter, he wouldn't look at the memories, he wouldn't even bother with the book.

-

-

-

"We shall not be having a lesson today, it seems," Snape said the next morning with a sneer directed not at Harry but Remus.

Harry frowned. "Why not?" He asked.

"It's your birthday, Potter," Snape told him. "Apparently celebration is needed."

Harry grinned at the man sitting across from him drinking tea though he made no move to thank him. Harry knew better than to expect a happy birthday or Snape to admit that it had been his idea to let him off occlumency lessons for the day, but he appreciated it all the same.

"So what exactly will happen tonight?" Harry asked Remus.

"Ah, that would be telling," Remus said, then as if to change the subject. "I'm curious, what was in the box."

This sobered up Harry instantly. "I rather not talk about it," he muttered.

Snape looked at Harry with an odd expression but said nothing. Harry was grateful for that as he finished his breakfast and left the room.

He didn't know where he was going until he was in Sirius' room, sitting in front of Sirius' bed, leaning back against it. How many times had he wished to have something from his parents even if it was the smallest of things? This letter was nothing short of a miracle, but he didn't want it. He didn't want whatever it was they were giving him, not when that would be the end of it.

Harry closed his eyes. Curiosity, he decided, would be the death of him, but for the time being he would ignore it. He didn't need to read the letter his father had written him, neither did he need to look at that diary, whose ever it had been. He wouldn't look at the memories either, not when they no doubt would hold them within—for him to see and not touch.

An hour later he heard the screams of Mrs. Black begin when the doorbell rang.

"Why did you ring the doorbell?" Someone shouted.

"Bloody Gryffindor!" Snape yelled.

Harry found himself smiling as he heard even further arguing, but the shouts of Mrs. Black being put to rest. Then the voices quieted and Harry heard four people climb the stairs. He heard a door down the hall open and a shout of his name.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the door. It was Fred who saw him and grinned, poking his twin brother but putting a finger to his lips. Harry heard Fred say something about going to check something out in another room and that Harry was probably in the library before they took Harry each by the arm and closed the door to Sirius' room behind them.

"Guys, what—"

"We hoped to get you alone," Fred said. "This is as good a time as any."

"Alright, what then?" Harry asked.

"Well," George began. "It's like this." He stopped and shared a look with his brother.

Fred sighed. "Fine, I guess I'll tell him." Fred nodded to himself and seemed about ready to tell Harry whatever it was, but the door opened and Ron and Hermione glared at the twins.

"You can talk to him later," Hermione said, taking Harry's hand and pulling him out of the room.

Curiosity killed the cat. That was his mantra, right? So, if he was going to go with that, he would not be curious about what the twins wanted to tell him, instead he would push away the curiosity. He wasn't curious about the box under his bed and he was not curious about what the twins wanted to tell him, and lastly he was not at all curious as to how he would be celebrating his birthday.

-

-

-

"We're going to Diagon Alley," Ron told Harry half an hour later as he won their game of chess. "We just have to wait for Tonks. She, Remus, and the twins are our so called guard, but tons of aurors patrol Diagon Alley daily there's like no point to it. Anyway, we'll finally get to see Weasley Wizard Wheezes."

Harry said nothing but watched transfixed as one of his pieces was thrown off the chessboard.

"Harry?"

Harry looked towards Hermione lounging on his bed with a book propped open.

"What are you studying with Professor Snape?"

"You're getting lessons from Snape!" Ron said outraged.

Harry sighed. "Occlumency."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But, wouldn't Dumbledore be better at, you know, teaching you."

Harry answered almost immediately, "no."

Both Hermione and Ron stared at him, waiting for him to continue. Harry didn't know what he could say to them. They would never believe that he trusted Snape, or even that Snape was remotely human.

"Well, I'm kind of mad at Dumbledore for a lot of things, and really Snape is doing much better this time around. I don't know, maybe it's that I want to learn but we're getting somewhere."

Hermione nodded, yet frowned, but she said nothing.

-

-

-

"Surprise!"

Harry was not surprised, not after Fred and George had warned him about it when he had gone into the back room of their shop to look at the things in development.

Fred and George had finally got to talking to him privately as well as given him quite a large bag of new items so that he could advertise once Hogwarts begun again. Harry was thinking of simply giving them away.

"You didn't have to," Harry told Mrs. Weasley who seemed to have instigated the entire thing.

"Nonsense, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, pulling him into an embrace.

Harry pulled away moments later and suddenly found himself being passed from person to person until he was suddenly pushed into Snape, who sneered at him and pushed him to the side.

"Professor!" Harry said. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Yes, so am I, the day I get bullied by a werewolf into going to a birthday party will no doubt be the strangest day of my life," Snape told him. "So far, it has been very strange indeed."

Harry grinned. "Well, thank you for being here."

Snape did not smile; he did not show appreciation for what Harry had just said, but the slight quirk of his lips allowed Harry to see that Snape was nevertheless glad that Harry appreciated his coming. The next thing that Snape said—Harry was sure this was the way Snape meant it—was meant to stipulate any remotely non-Snape like actions Snape had done.

"I shall however stay no longer than ten minutes, Potter, I do have more important things to do than celebrate your birthday. Now, go on, talk to the rest of this motley group of people."

Harry smiled and walked away.

"Do remember, Potter, I gave you a day off today, we shall work harder tomorrow."

-

-

-

Two hours later everyone had been fed and watered. Snape had remained in a corner throughout the entire night reading though Harry had seen him levitate two pieces of cake.

"Present time!" Chirped Ginny.

Harry smiled at the red head and nodded in agreement. A pile of presents appeared in front of him. He reached for the first box and began unwrapping it. Inside he found a book and a note from Hermione.

_To help you close your mind._

Harry smiled and mouthed a thank you to Hermione, handing the book to Snape who had been lurking in the corner behind him. The man raised his eyebrows and looked towards Hermione, before nodding at Harry. No one noticed the exchange.

Ron handed Harry the next present, but before Harry could open it, there was a loud crash and in the middle of the room, the wooden box Harry had stashed under his bed sat.

"What the—" Ron began.

"No," Harry groaned turning away so that no one could see the tears that lingered in his eyes, and then when looking towards it again, he shook his head. "I don't want to see it," He said to the room. "Just—just take it away. I—I'll open the rest tomorrow." With that said Harry walked to the door. "I want to be alone," he added lastly before leaving.

-

-

-

"Everyone's gone," Snape said from the doorway.

Harry barely nodded. He'd been staring at the wall for the past hour and continued to do so, now.

"It wasn't for you," Snape continued. "It was for me."

Harry swirled around to face him. "For you, but—"

Snape stepped farther into the room. "I haven't opened it," He told Harry. "I won't open it until you open yours."

"I have," Harry said. "There's nothing in there that I need nor want."

Snape looked at him oddly. "You are not a coward, Potter!" Snape snapped at him. "Now you will take out the box from where ever it is you are hiding it and you will look at what is inside it, and I will stand right here until you do it."

Harry was surprised at the strange ferocity that Snape was giving him, and he wasn't even calling him names or telling him how worthless he was.

"No," Harry said, however.

"Then I shall remain here all night," Snape told him matter-of-factly.

Harry glared at him like the petulant child, but climbed under the bed and retrieved the box, with shaking fingers. He didn't want to know what the letter said. He didn't want to know what they could possibly want to tell him through their diary, and more importantly, he desperately wanted some idea as to whether everything in the letter would make his life worse or better.

Harry tried to ignore the other presence in the room as he took out the envelope again and took the letter out. Without glancing at Snape he read the first three words out loud.

"My Dearest Son." Harry looked at Snape. "Interesting enough for you?" He asked, bitterly.

Snape said nothing but he walked towards Harry and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It is rather ungrateful to not read that letter which was no doubt as hard for you to read as it was for them to read."

Harry shrugged Snape's hand off. "I want to be left alone by the dead."

"That will never happen. Read it. I'll leave you to it," Snape said, picking up his own box. "Something must be important for James Potter to send me something. I must say I rather am curious."

Snape turned to leave.

"Stay," Harry said in a small voice.

"Whatever for?"

"I won't read it if you don't," Harry explained.

Snape looked unsure of what to do. Harry motioned for him to sit, and looked once more at the letter.

"My Dearest Son," He began reading.

**Author's Note: **I know it's a bit of a cliffy but I didn't mean for it to turn out that way...just I felt Harry was probably going to be as stubborn as me about it...I mean as curious as I am I wouldn't want to read a letter from someone that died whom I cared about...it'd be a little scary...anyways I'm glad I could get this out today while I have the time...I'm sort of sick and dead tired but I can't sleep because I'm sick and I can't stand medicine...but I can't do homework so here I am putting this up...and eating a lemon...mostly because it's good and it helps my throat...maybe I'll read a fanfic because I don't think I could write anything right now...-nods- anyways, enjoy the fic and review!

-Erika


	4. A Letter

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story...I know I enjoyed writing it...and thank you for all the get well comments as a whole. I am in fact feeling much better...other than that have fun reading...I know I did last weekend. lol.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Four_**

_A Letter_

_October 15, 1981_

"My Dearest Son," James Potter read. "Do know that I—we—love you."

Lily nodded smiling, but did not motion for James to continue reading. Instead she extended her hand, not looking at Harry whose head rested safely on her lap. James handed her the letter and closed his eyes. Lily read the letter.

My Dearest Son, 

Do know that I—we—love you. That is the most important thing; that you understand the feelings that your mother and I have for you, because you are my son in every sense of the word—you are our son. However much I do not wish you to read this letter will not in particular help us, so it is my duty—mostly because I gave my word to someone—to tell you this, even if telling you means writing this letter just in case.

So, I guess, my son, it will best to begin with the beginning. 

I will never say that I was the best person in my youth. Growing up, I had everything I could want at my age. My parents denied me nothing, and I had never heard the word "no", not from anyone. I'm not proud of that, of who I was. It's a terrible thing, to be so ignorant of the world, to only see that little sphere in which you've lived in all your life. 

I'd never met anyone different from me, or at least no one that had the complete opposite view on things that I had. 

I must have been eight or perhaps nine when I met one of my cousins. My mother had always been close to her sister growing up, even though my mother was ten years older than her sister. I asked, upon learning this, why I hadn't met my aunt ever before, and was surprised at the answer. 

My mother came from one of the old pureblood families, though they weren't too concerned with blood, my grandparents had not approved of the man my aunt wanted to marry. His being a muggle hadn't been a problem, but it had been his treatment of my aunt, though she had noticed nothing. 

My aunt didn't want to go against her parents and her sister; she trusted their judgment even though she loved him, but she also had a secret. She was pregnant. This was the only reason she went against their judgment and married him. 

Mother told me, then, that she never saw her sister again, not until she showed up in St. Mungo's with her son, a boy about my age, both bruised and hurt. They were coming to stay with us until she was back on her feet.

I hated him. I didn't understand him. Ignorance.

He was small for his age, wore ratty clothes, most of them too big for him. His hair was greasy and looked unwashed, his overly large nose was crooked and I expected it had been broken at least once. He was like nothing I had ever seen, sniveling about something or other all the time. I didn't understand him—I didn't want to understand him. 

My mother loved him. She thought he was a sweet boy. They had a lot in common, much more than she had with me, they could talk for hours about potions and other subjects that I had little interest for. My father, too, liked him. He allowed Severus to read the books in his study, though I couldn't understand why. Half the stuff in there could put me to sleep. 

His mother was nice enough if fidgety at times. She most often remained by herself in her room or in the drawing room. She hated anyone to touch her and half the time didn't even seem to care for her son, while other times she was overprotective of him. They were both odd. 

Severus knew I hated him, or at least he had guessed as much, so he stayed far away from me for the month he remained in the house with us. 

I saw him from time to time, but was more than happy when he stayed away. 

Thinking back now, I don't know why I was so cruel to my own cousin, to a boy that had clearly been hurt, a boy that my parents were trying hard to help. His mother was no better after all. 

Severus grew to hate me, after the first prank Sirius and I played on him once we had begun Hogwarts. 

Our history was bad to begin with, but once we were in separate houses we continued to grow into enemies, Sirius didn't much help this with his hate for Slytherin, though Remus tried to stop his—our—taunting.

I could bore you with the details of those seven years, but I imagine maybe you already know them.

Your mother was beautiful. 

I only noticed this during our fourth year, and I decided to first try and be her friend, but she hated me. She wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't deterred to win her affection. 

Lily was Severus' friend. She was his partner in potions, and quite brilliant at it. She was also his object of affection. You could say this infuriated me, but that would be an understatement. I hated him so much more then. He wasn't good enough for her. He was a Slytherin; he hung around other Slytherins that were far worse than he was. 

What bothered me more than just that was how much she cared for him in return. How could he get Lily when I couldn't. I didn't understand it.

When I saw them together in our fifth year I was so mad at him. Sirius played a cruel prank on him that year, almost leading to Severus' death if it hadn't been for me. He hated me more for that, for owing me his life. 

I could say that after that incident Severus changed for the better, but you see his mother died, killed by a muggle, the story went. He became bitter and not even Lily could get through to him. Everyone could tell I guess. He was so withdrawn. 

At the end of the year he and Lily had a falling out, and even though I was happy about it, I couldn't watch Lily cry. I tried to talk to him, then, but it was useless, you could say, he was so deep into the dark arts and his friends in Slytherin; he hardly cared about Lily anymore. It was as if his ability to love was gone. 

That summer he came to stay with us once more, for the entire summer. This time I attempted to get to know him, to get him to maybe go back to his old self but he was always busy, always doing something. 

Terrible as this was I let him be. 

Our next year was much the same. He was back to normal, almost, though you could see a difference. He and Lily's relationship was not the same this year, but lucky for me, she began to see me in a better light and became my friend. 

The next year Lily and I began to date. It was to me great. 

What I have told you so far isn't much to detail everything, but to give you something so long to read might put me off the real reason for this letter. 

It took another year for Lily to finally marry me, but by this point I had no doubt in my mind that she was in love with me. I loved her, at least. My parents died within a few months of each other two or three months after my wedding. 

I did not see Severus after our last day at Hogwarts, though he often went to see my parents. He didn't come to my wedding though he was invited. I didn't blame him. You could say that by this time I was near tolerating him, I wanted to put our past behind us. 

The next time I saw him was when my father died. I knew almost instantly he was a death eater, but I said nothing. 

Dumbledore formed his order next and Lily and I were ready to join. The order of the phoenix was plainly put the strongest force against Voldemort. I was surprised to see my cousin next to Dumbledore on the first meeting. Dumbledore explained then that he had turned spy. 

Lily was ecstatic, I could tell, but she said nothing to him. 

I saw how much she loved him still but didn't say anything about it to her even though I knew she was still hurt about his betray earlier on. 

After a couple of months they began talking and I allowed it. I loved Lily and I had grown to care for her so much I didn't want to take anything from her. I wanted her happy, even if that meant her talking to Severus making me as jealous as ever. We too had come to an understanding. We would be at most cordial to each other. 

Around this time Lily and I tried hard to have a baby. We wanted family, and my mother wanted a grandson to love and care for. She wanted something else in her life to take the place of my father's death. 

Lily became pregnant a few months later. We were so happy, but told no one, a few weeks later the most terrible event occurred, she suffered a miscarriage. We were devastated. The first healer we went to see was Madame Pomfrey and she announced to us that we would never be able to have children, or at least I couldn't. But Lily wanted a baby terribly and I wanted nothing more than to give her what she wanted. 

Lily found the charm and the potion. They were meant to help us conceive a baby but they didn't work. 

So we tried something else. It would only work if it was my family member. As long as I gave her to a family member and performed a spell on her afterwards the baby in question would be mine in all forms of the word, except biologically. 

This is why I write this letter, for you to understand so much. You see, my son, the spell was meant to make you mine only in a legal way, but always you would be his son. Always, you would his. 

I told Lily he was the best one for the job. He loved her still and added to that he didn't want a son, not like me. We agreed quickly enough that he would be the best for the job. Severus loved her and I knew she loved him. It was in a way my way of telling her that I knew even though she loved me that she could love him as well, and that if she wanted to be with him in the end, wanted him more than me that she could have him instead of me. 

So, this is the reason for this letter. Know that your parents loved each other. Know that I am your father regardless of anything, even though he too is your father. I don't want to take that away from you. I love you even though you aren't mine, and if you're reading this letter I'm long gone and I wish more than anything that if he's still alive to give him a chance.

Severus Snape is your father, Harry. 

He loved you for the time he knew you. I must say at least that much. You see his memories of you, of the fact he was your father were deleted, put into a pensieve. He'll be getting them back at least some twelve hours after you get this, with it comes an explanation from Lily. 

I'm so sorry for this coming to you now instead of earlier. Know that only Lily and I knew about it afterwards. 

I love you Harry. Please give a chance to him. You need to understand his background to understand him, and I want to you something else. Just one thing: I want you to understand that everyone is the way they are because of who their parents are, the way they grew up. I also want you to know that no one is the way they appear to be on the surface. I wish I had known that a long time ago, that I could have been a friend to my cousin. So try to be open minded and allow people into your life, people you would never allow in before. 

Love, 

James Potter (your father)

P.S. The reason you look like me is a charm your mother put on you. This charm will begin to wear off on after your 16th birthday, slowly. It could take from 6 to 12 months to completely wear off. The memories in the box are for you understand how much Severus, Lily, and I loved you. The diary is something Severus wished for you to have, you must read it. 

Lily had tears in her eyes as she folded the letter up again. "This works," she said softly. "I didn't write the one to Severus yet. I will soon, oh god, he'll hate me for this."

James reached towards his wife and took her hand. "He wouldn't hate you, love," he whispered. "He loved so much."

-

-

-

July 31, 1996

Harry looked at Snape, speechless, before he stood, looking bewildered around his room. He had only read the first few sentences to Snape before succumbing to reading to himself. Snape had said nothing but simply clutched at his box and watched him. Snape didn't know the contents of the letter. Snape didn't know that he was Harry's father—he didn't know understand that Harry's whole world had been turned upside down. Here was the man that had hated him since he had first set foot in the Great Hall; the man that had made his life miserable all throughout potions, and he was—Harry didn't even think he could say it or think it to himself again—his father. He could shudder at the thought of the implications that brought forth.

Harry felt himself being led to his bed. He blinked a couple of times, coming back to focus. He said nothing, however, and simply stared at Sna-his father, then he laughed. Snape was his father! It was stupid, it was laughable, it was—true.

"Potter?"

Snape sounded almost worried. This bothered Harry. Snape should not be worried about him, Snape wasn't his father—not where it counted—he had never cared before—Harry needed him not to care.

"I'm—I'm okay," Harry muttered. "Just a shock, I need time alone."

Snape nodded gently. "Alright, then, I'll go," He said and watching him hesitantly he left the room.

Harry wrung his hands. He shifted nervously in his bed. Snape would no doubt go to his room and open the box. Then he would know exactly who Harry was to him, and then life like he knew it would change, not that he expected Snape to take him or anything, but Snape would know and Dumbledore would then find out, and knowing Dumbledore he would force Snape to spend even more time with him and then when someone found out Snape was actually Harry's father Snape would be killed in an attempt to get to him.

Harry sighed and curled into a small ball. He liked Snape, well, he was tolerant of Snape, at most, and really the man had always been a constant in his life since he began at Hogwarts.

Snape had been there for him in his first year. The only teacher to notice Quirrel was trying to throw him off his broomstick. Snape had tried to save his life; in fact he had saved his life. He'd always acted towards him as if he was normal as if he wasn't Harry Potter the boy who lived. To Snape he had been just another foolhardy boy in his class. Thinking back Harry found he appreciated everything the man had done for him. He had stood in front of he and his friends when Remus had turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep him alive when he went into the Shrieking Shack even if he had been a bit unreasonable. Snape had argued with Dumbledore to keep Harry out of the Triwizard Tournament and now that Harry thought about it, Dumbledore should have been able to. And then, the year previous he had tried to teach occlumency, Harry just hadn't wanted to learn it, but Snape had tried.

Snape had always been there. In the background mostly, but he had been there, unchangeable and acting his part, but there nonetheless. And Snape was his father. What did that mean exactly? What did it entail?

Harry heard a large crash and jumped. Then a door slammed and footsteps carried someone to his door, and past it, down the stairs and out the front door. Harry knew it was Snape, and Snape knew the truth.

-

-

-

_August 1, 1996_

Harry had a fitful sleep that night, and upon waking up didn't feel as if he even wanted to get out of bed, but one look at the letter that lay on the floor, and the open box containing the memories and the journal and he was slowly sitting up, and swinging his legs out of bed and kneeling down next to them, reaching for the worn diary.

He stared at it for a long moment and then closed his eyes, dropping it back into the box and moving to grab fresh clothes to change into. He glared for a moment at the box before changing quickly and leaving the room, headed to the kitchen. When he passed the drawing room he noticed his pile of presents remained there unopened.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus greeted him, while pouring a cup of tea for Harry and setting it on the table.

Harry took his seat and pulled the sugar towards him, before lifting his gaze to look at Remus. "Did Professor Snape arrive back, yet?" He asked.

"I wasn't aware he left." Remus frowned.

"Didn't you hear him slam his door last night and then leave the house?" Harry asked, feeling almost glad that Remus had not noticed, but also glad the man was not back. He didn't know how he would possibly deal with him when he returned. How he could deal with the situation as a whole.

"No, I heard nothing. But, if he's not back then, want to open all those presents after breakfast?"

For a lack of anything better to do, Harry nodded. He wanted as much distraction from everything as possible.

It took them the better part of an hour to get through all the gifts his friends had showered him with, though Harry was less than pleased to find Dumbledore had gotten him a penseive; now the temptation to see what the memories his parents had sent him contained swallowed over him.

"I'm surprised he didn't give you this before," Remus said when he saw the object. "It was your father's. I don't believe anyone's ever told you, but he was a great at occlumency and legilimency. His—your grandmother—taught him how during our seventh year, he was quite a natural. This was his back then."

Harry frowned but said nothing; instead he just picked it up and a few other items and carried them to his room. After depositing them on his bed he turned to go, but when his eyes landed on the potion phials that contained the memories he stopped and walked back picking both phials up. He set them down on his bedside table and put the penseive next to them before he poured them into the basin. Then, before he could lose his nerve he moved as close as he could and made to enter the memories, but the door opened before he could.

Harry stepped back and looked towards the door. Severus Snape stood there, looking at him with an odd expression.

"So, Potter," Snape said. "You're my son."

"Yes," Harry said, not quite looking at the man in front of him anymore.

Neither said anything. Harry inched farther away from the penseive and as soon as he was far enough from it, dared to look up at his father—his father!

"Wha-what happens now?" Harry asked.

Snape took a moment to consider something before speaking, "I have informed Dumbledore of the development. It is quite an unfortunate turn of events considering my job for the order if anyone were to find this out. A plan is being devised in that case. Either way, we need not worry about that yet. Dumbledore does on the other hand offer congratulations and wishes that we perhaps learn more about each other.

"I have considered everything and I do think it is in our best interests to get along far better than we do now, even with the lessons. The ministry will not be in particular happy about this, but it will all come to light."

Harry took in all he had said, and spoke only after he had managed to calm down somewhat. "My appearance, it's supposed to change, to show my real self, I guess, anyone would be able to tell after a few big changes, if they paid enough attention."

"Do not worry about that," Snape said, and looked towards the penseive. "What were you planning on viewing?"

"Something that came in the box," Harry said as if that served for explanation enough.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Snape said. "This does not excuse you from your lesson."

Harry almost smiled as Snape left, but then he glanced at the penseive. The liquid swirled within it and Harry frowned, stepping towards it. He had to see what was inside those memories. He moved to stand in front of it. His hands clutched the sides of it and then he leaned towards it and he was twirling, falling, and he was inside the memory.

**Author's Note:** I am so much better than I was last weekend...and this is probably one of my favorite chapters of this fic...because the letter is revealed...and the information...granted I didn't write in the memories so that is still cliffy like...but..-shrug- I'm really glad at so many of you liking this fic...and I really love reading your reviews so thank you for them...I really would love more...lol...and any questions or comments worth making are always welcome...hope you enjoyed the fic.

-Erika


	5. Changes

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story...I know I enjoyed writing it...

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Five_**

_Changes_

July 31, 1996

Severus Snape looked curiously at the box in front of him. From the reaction that Potter had had to the letter his parents had written him it had been quite clear to Severus that something Potter hadn't liked had been in the letter and it had to do with him. This more than anything worried him and made him curious. James and Lily Potter had sent him something from the past and it was bound to be important.

He opened the box with care, waiting for the worst to happen. Even in death he wouldn't underestimate James Potter and his penchant for pranks.

The box held a number of phials filled with what he recognized as memories, at least fifteen. He picked one up, looking at the label. He read it with a frown. "Month two," he said to himself and put it back in the box, picking up another and reading it, "Month five."

He spotted the envelope, then, with his name written directly across the middle in the neat spidery handwriting he recognized almost immediately as Lily's.

With almost trembling hands he picked it up, weighting the heavy parchment in his hands before he opened it. He didn't read it. Instead he set it down next to the box and stood up. He didn't want to in essence read the letter to find something that if he were to go by Potter's reaction would be terrible for him. But he had to know. He wouldn't put it off like Potter had if only to be forced to read it by someone.

His hands reached for it and he picked it up, unfolding it, and then he began to read.

Severus, 

It's strange to write a letter to someone that will not be the person I know at all. Sixteen years is a long time, but even with that I cannot even begin to imagine the man you will become. Silly thoughts, I know, but as you always reminded me, this was for the best, and I can only hope that when you read this letter Voldemort has long been a part of your past. I can't even try to picture you sixteen years from now still serving him, even if it would continue to be for the cause. 

James continues to tell me this letter is a precaution so that the truth doesn't die with us. That's my main reason for writing this and maybe to tell you how much I hated the plan. How much I now regret agreeing to it. 

Someone's memories are precious, but know that you wanted it this way, that you came up with this plan despite how much it hurt you. I think that's why you, such a great occlumens, asked James to obliviate your memories, so you wouldn't be tempted by what you lost. James lied to you, you know, I was surprised that you didn't catch on. He didn't obliviate your memory but he took your memories and now I return them. Yes, James was your enemy, but you'll find within those phials the memories of months upon months during which you nearly even became friends. 

He respected you, Severus, truly, and I must say it was as much a surprise to me as you, but I think he always knew that what you gave us made you the better man. He wouldn't have made done it. He was too selfish to give up something that he valued so much like you did. He'll never say it, but I think I know him well enough to say this, James Potter was jealous of you. Why he picked you I will always wonder though I have some idea, I still doubt he'll ever tell me.

I know I skirted the subject many times already, and I must get to the point quickly. I think if some of your mannerisms weren't lost to time by now you'd be impatient with me. So, I'll just write it out. 

You have a son.

Now you're probably shaking your head and denying even the possibility but still thinking about Harry whom you know to be my son. But it's true, Severus, I wouldn't play some prank on you like this. You have a son and he's Harry Potter—Harry Snape.

An explanation is in order, I imagine. 

To start off, I was the one that found the spell and showed it to James. We'd been trying to have a baby for months but it wasn't really working. This spell called for a substitute. It called for someone that shared the same blood as James to impregnante me. I told James it was his choice to continue on. When he picked you I knew you'd either say no or be offended. I still loved you and James knew this. Maybe he felt our baby should still be created by love rather than because of family loyalty. 

You remained around us for that time, making sure I was alright, mostly. James became almost fond of you as I've mentioned before. The two of you were very alike and could have interesting conversations even though some topics were far from being open for conversation between the two of you. 

I was never sure how you would view Harry, but James was sure that you never wanted to be a father, and with my knowledge of you I couldn't help but agree with this. You'd claimed before when asked the question that you were far from wishing that you could be a father. You didn't trust yourself to not be like your father—like Tobias. 

But when Harry was born you were in love. 

You're probably scoffing and rolling your eyes, especially if you know him or you've seen him. I will admit that he looks exactly like James, your spell might have taken even the few features he got from me in favor of James. 

I will not take claim for the spell or even the plan you came up with. 

  
When we heard about the prophecy and that it could apply to Harry, and that Voldemort was aware of Harry, we knew you'd be in danger if anyone ever found out your connection so you decided to change his appearance and then before you left to never see him again you asked James to obliviate your memories.

James took them instead and because I hated the idea of you losing such memories, and I think James might have felt the same way, we time-sent them to you, with a few things for Harry in case that something happened to James and I. 

I wish I could share with you this time I have with Harry, now, that you could see how big he is, and just how wonderful this boy, your son, is. 

I ask that you care for him. That you at least give him a chance. He's your son and even though he has James, to him when he finds out that you are his father, he'd need you especially if James and I are gone. If you do not do it for me. 

Lastly and I will say it again: I love you. 

Yours, 

Lily 

P.S. The charm will wear off in six to twelve months. That in part is why I tell you this. Please look at the memories, if only to appease your curiosity. 

-

-

-

Dumbledore sat in Harry's usual chair in the library when Harry entered it for his occlumency lessons that afternoon. Across from the headmaster sat Snape—his father, Harry reminded himself with something akin to disgust—glaring at the fire.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said smiling, the ever present twinkle in his eyes brighter for some reason.

"Good Afternoon, Headmaster," Harry said, taking a seat on the chair next to Snape that usually held Snape's stack of books which Harry saw sitting on a table in the far corner.

"Well," Dumbledore said, with clear bluntness. "We have quite a bit to talk about, don't we?"

Harry said nothing, but Snape spoke, "I hardly doubt anything more than the change of plans concerning the death eaters is needed."

"Severus," Dumbledore said in what sounded like a warning.

The potions master rolled his eyes and looked away from the other occupants of the room towards the fire.

Harry found he was smiling slightly at Snape's actions, but wiped that off his face when he turned to look at Dumbledore.

"What exactly are we discussing?"

Dumbledore considered Snape before answering Harry, "You've had little time to consider the ordeal, not to mention the deaths of your relatives," Dumbledore stated. "You are without protection, now, even here."

"I'll be at Hogwarts soon and then I'll only have a couple of months afterwards for my birthday when the protection would have failed regardless."

"You put too much faith in the castle, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly.

"What do you suggest then, Professor?" Harry asked genuinely curious.

"I've been looking for a reason the wards failed before the Dursleys were killed. Sirius could not have affected the spells to that point, but something else could. Lily's spell failing…" Dumbledore seemed to be talking to himself more than to Harry, and now stopped while he thought about something. "I've considered," He said, looking intently at Snape, "if perhaps she was more connected to you as long as her spell remained intact."

Snape spoke, then, turning to actually look at Dumbledore, "What exactly does this have to do with me?" He asked.

"You are his father," Dumbledore stated rather bluntly.

Snape gave the headmaster a dark look and then looked away again.

"If the case is that Lily's spell failing brought that on, then, the only thing we could do at this time is make another protection ward for you, a more permanent one. Voldemort"—Snape flinched but did not look away from the fire—"grows stronger and the war is becoming much harder to keep at bay and hidden from the muggles. He is planning something and we cannot leave you unprotected."

Harry nodded in concession but instead of looking at Dumbledore, he looked at Snape who was still facing the fire, looking thoughtful.

"You want me to somehow offer him that protection?" Snape asked not facing either of them.

"Lily loved you."

Snape scoffed. "That has nothing to do with anything, Albus."

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He knew his mom had loved Snape—his father—at some point but hearing it laid out like this bothered him.

"It has everything to do with everything, dear boy," Dumbledore said. "Lily and you had a connection. That alone will allow us to set the spell. That you are his father makes things even simpler."

Snape stood suddenly, looked at Dumbledore and walked to stand at the other side of the room as if he was thinking something through. Harry watched him.

"If this works, then what?" Harry asked, thinking about living with the Dursleys. Would this mean living with Snape? Snape couldn't be much worse than the Dursleys, right?

"It would mean that you will have to consider any place Professor Snape considers as home as home. In fact I would have encouraged this even if the spell were not needed. I rather think it would be best for a relationship to grow between the two of you. You are family and you will need each other in the future."

Harry considered what Dumbledore had said. What would happen in the future when he could be easily recognized as Snape's son? He was sure Snape would have to cease being a death eater by that point—Voldemort would see it as betrayal if he ever found out about Snape's intrusion on Harry's life without hurting him. And then when the public found out—Harry didn't think he could handle even thinking about how everyone else would take it—they would want them to get along, and if they didn't things would go from bad to worse.

Harry sighed audibly and looked at Dumbledore. "It doesn't matter, does it? Somehow we must come to an arrangement regardless if only for the sake of the ministry."

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "I think I will always wish things could have been different for the two of you." Then he stood, looking at the strange watch on his wrist. "Alas, I really must get going. Severus, are you willing to do the spell?"

Snape didn't answer.

"I will expect an answer by tonight, Severus." Dumbledore gave the man a pointed look. "Do not disappoint me."

It seemed to Harry, between watching the two, that Dumbledore had already decided for Snape, but he said nothing about the matter instead muttered a good-bye to Dumbledore and watched him depart via floo.

-

-

-

_August 2, 1996_

_His eyes were closed as he pressed his forehead against the cool pane of glass that made up the only window in the small nursery, looking out into a cobbled street, watching a couple strolling peacefully with a small dog that didn't really seem to require the walk as it was attempting to lie down on the street and rest. His black eyes followed the two innocent muggles as the woman picked up the small dog and cuddled him in her arms, receiving happy buoyant licking from the canine. _

_Severus moved away from the window, letting the curtains fall into place. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand and then crossed the room to the wooden crib from which a baby looked towards him with interest. _

_"Harry," Severus said with fondness and reached to pick of the miniscule body, cradling him in his arms. "Oh, look at you, you wonderful boy." _

_Baby Harry gurgled happily, one of his arms reaching clumsily upwards as if attempting to grab something from the air._

_"Silly child, I'm not James," Severus told him as if Harry could understand perfectly well what he was saying. _

_Harry looked up at Severus perplexed. _

"You know I love you, Harry," Severus told his son. "Even though you do not understand me, I wish you could somehow always know that I'll love you, but maybe that is what will make this better—your lack of knowledge. So I will talk freely, even though I am quite aware of what will happen in two days. I will have lost you from my memory. 

"I can only hope that when, if, there is a moment in time when we know who and what we are to each other that then we will not lose our heads and that we can try to get this back, because at this moment I don't know if I could live without you in my life. You are my son, even if James will be your father in that perfect way that will make it so much harder for you to allow me into your life. I'm surprised at myself, really, at this attachment, because this was always the plan. You were supposed to be his not mine, maybe it's just you are so easy to love…" 

Severus dropped a kiss on Harry's head. "Merlin, this is harder than I imagined."

Harry looked at him with his big green eyes as if he knew what would happen. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Severus told him. "Years from now I'll probably hate you and I won't even remember you trusting me so much, and you'll probably hate me too."

Harry moved slightly in his arms and Severus smiled at him crookedly before walking to Lily's chair and sitting down, holding Harry close. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to forget you," he told his son. 

Harry gasped into awareness. It took him a moment to figure out where he was but then after he had processed this, he was engulfed by the vivid dream that he knew had actually happened in the past for it had been one of the memories he had viewed earlier that morning, or rather the previous morning, he realized, when he looked at his muggle wrist watch and it read, "3:12".

Harry sat up slowly, and reached for his glasses, slipping them on while pondering if he should get out of bed and do something constructive instead of lay in bed for the next hour or so, overanalyzing the memory while still trying to figure out how he should feel about Snape after viewing what had happened in the past.

Sliding his feet out of bed, Harry wondered what he could work on before he spied the book Hermione had gotten him for his birthday. He picked it up and after finding the slippers Hermione had knitted him last winter when he had complained to her about the cold dormitory floors and having to use his shoes when he woke up in the middle of the night, Harry slipped his feet into them and then he was walking down the hall and entering the library.

The fire was blazing, with candles littering about the room. It was the first sign that someone else was in the library, but Harry either ignored that or didn't notice as he continued onto his favorite chair, where he would curl up to read the book.

The slight coughing noise alerted Harry to the fact that he wasn't alone, and as he looked over to the chair across from him, he almost allowed himself to groan. He just couldn't escape the man.

"That, Potter," Snape told him in a voice that meant he wasn't pleased to find himself with a companion. "Is the reason that it is doubtful you will ever truly vanquish the Dark Lord."

"Alright, then," Harry said with a resigned expression, as he stood up once more. "I'll be reading elsewhere."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Sit down, Potter!" he snapped.

"Snape, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Forgotten who I am, have you?" Snape asked before he seemed to have garnered what Harry meant, and then he shot Harry a glare.

Harry found this almost amusing, having been on the receiving end of most of the potions master's glares for the past five years.

"Well, it is," Harry said.

Snape chose to ignore it. "Sit down," He repeated instead.

Harry sat, dropping his book onto his lap. He looked at Snape—his father, he reminded himself—and waited.

"I think a drink is in order," Snape said. "A nightcap, if you will." He stood and walked to the other side of the room and walked back carrying two glasses filled to the rim with some sort of amber liquid.

Harry didn't ask what it was as he took the glass and brought it to his lips, tasting it. The warmth feeling that he had recognized as coming from drinking the alcoholic drink sank into him and he looked towards the man he hated calling "father" and awaited whatever it was that Snape would tell him.

"Dumbledore and I have spoken again, just under an hour ago, in fact, and as painful as it is to even

think about sharing my home with you, Potter, he feels that it is within our abilities to get along and perhaps form some sort of working relationship." He stopped, took a large gulp of his drink and spoke again, "I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you. James Potter was your father. I will ask only that you follow my rules while in my house and that for once you learn to listen, but nothing will change. It will be as if none of this was uncovered. You are my son in name only."

Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

"I can agree to that," Harry said. "When are we going to your home?"

Snape looked as if he didn't want to answer the question, as if he wanted to just forget about the entire world and just be left alone to mind his own business.

"Tomorrow, Potter," He said. "Dumbledore and Lupin will be the only ones that know of your location. The spell will be cast by the three of us tomorrow morning."

An hour later found Harry still sitting in the library, though this time the book Hermione had given him was open and he was intently reading about how while occluding it was easier to have some calming image in your mind that would at some point wind up being the wall that helped keep everything out.

Across from Harry, Snape was watching him. Harry could feel the potions master's eyes on him but didn't look up, continuing his reading.

"It's late," Snape said a moment later. "You should go to bed. There will be a lot to do tomorrow morning."

Harry shrugged but stood up, marking his place in the book before closing it.

"Good-night," Harry muttered and left the library.

As he got into bed a minute later, Harry couldn't help but once more consider Severus Snape. At some point, even though he, Harry, couldn't remember it, the man had cared about him and had known that he would at some point hate him even if at the time he had wished that it wouldn't happen. Shaking the thought that Snape could maybe change because of the past he turned on his side and closed his eyes thoughts still mulling over his father.

-

-

-

The house was normal, far too normal than what Harry had expected it to be like. He was sitting on a wooden chair that Dumbledore had conjured up when they had arrived, nibbling on a piece of toast while watching Snape, Lupin, and Dumbledore as they waved their wands around Snape's house in strange partners.

"I think everything is in order around the house," Snape remarked, coming to stand next to Harry. He sneered at him as he looked at the piece of toast. "Potter, I will not have you eating like a mouse in my house!" He snapped.

Harry stared at him and opened his mouth, not quite knowing how to respond. Not only had Snape rhymed but…He turned away, spotting Remus walking towards them.

"Is there anything else we need to do?" He asked the werewolf.

"No. All set." Remus Smiled.

Harry had been wondering since he had woken up that morning, if there was more to the warding than the spells, but it seemed that nothing more than the usual process was needed.

"We should head inside," Snape said, once Dumbledore was headed their way.

Harry stood up, still clutching his toast and watched as the chair he had been sitting on disappeared. He turned to look at Snape, but he was already walking ahead, next to Dumbledore, looking as if he was arguing about something.

Remus smiled at him and threw an arm around his shoulders, leading him towards the house.

"It'll be fine, you know," Remus told him. "Even if it is Severus that wound up being your father."

Sighing, Harry looked up at the man he had believed to be his father's best friend. He'd been surprised when Remus hadn't changed upon learning the news of Harry true parentage.

"I don't care, Harry," Remus told him. "You are still you, nothing changes that. I am still as proud of you as I was when we believed you were James' son."

Harry smiled at the werewolf wider and Remus gave him a half-hug. "Now, come on, I've been dying to see the feared potions master's digs."

Harry laughed and walked alongside Remus to his new home.

His new home, where he would live with Snape—his father—and have what he expected to be, the strangest summer of his life.

He and Remus stepped inside the house, trailing after Snape and Dumbledore who had continued on, to a room directly next to the entrance. As Harry took in his surroundings, Remus led him to the drawing room. Dumbledore was standing by the hearth, still talking to Snape in low tones.

"I must say good-bye for this time," Dumbledore said. "You'll be alright here, Harry," He said in an assuring tone towards Harry. "I shall see you later tonight, Remus to discuss your return to Hogwarts."

Harry whirled to look at Remus. "You're teaching again?"

"Well, it hasn't been officially decided," Remus said.

Harry rolled his eyes, but gave Remus a fond look. He'd loved Remus' classes back in his third year and to have him back was great news to him. He'd always thought of Remus almost like an uncle that couldn't always be there to help him out on things, but truly meant well.

"Defense is going to be great!" Harry exclaimed with zeal. "I mean after Umbrige last year you'll have a lot to catch everyone up to, even with the DA." Harry looked as if he could have continued on but stopped when Remus looking at him amused shook his head.

"I have a feeling," Remus said. "That we're going to have to talk a bit about those DA members of yours."

Dumbledore who had been lingering by the fire, nodded at them and stepped into the fire shouting his destination. Harry watched the flames engulf the headmaster, and turned away to look at Snape who was sitting thoughtfully, ignoring him and Remus.

Harry shrugged and once more looked at Remus, absentmindedly bringing his toast to his mouth. It was as he did this that Snape jumped up.

"That is hardly breakfast, Potter!" He said. "Come along, now." And then he strode out of the room.

Harry looked to Remus who was just as befuddled as he was, before following, muttering to Remus as he went, "I'm not even hungry."

Remus doubled up in laughter as if he had found some meaning in the situation that Harry had not. Harry glared at him.

"Well, go on, if he actually starts making breakfast this would make my week."

**Author's Note:** Don't know what to say...just looking forward to reading your reviews and heres to hoping you enjoy the chapter...questions are always welcome

-Erika


	6. A True Dream

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others...just to mention now, the dates before each part are important and should be read for lack of confusion.

I would like to reply to a review here.

**Hobesan: **So far this is interesting. I will love seeing them warm up to each other. But two things, please don't mess with his name, we love the Harry Potter not the Harry Snape stories. I really hope you don't mess with his appearance much. Both of these have been done to death in other fics, it's tedious.

**My reply: **I really hate when Harry's name is changed too, it bothers me, but Harry was trying to be funny when he claimed that his name was Snape. I don't think that he will actually be completely sure about changing it...it would be like me cjust out of the blue taking my mom's maiden name...he's too used to Harry Potter, but there will be some use to the name thing later on...and you do see Snape talk to himself about how it isn't Harry Potter but Harry Snape, only because he still can't get it through his head and the name Potter means so little to him...Names are really important and I will be focusing on them later...As to his appearance...how about I don't tell you what happens about that yet? Lol. I have most of this planned out so I know what will happen concerning all this stuff. I don't think you'll be dissapointed. Thanks for the reviews and I am trying to make this different from other fics, it may not look like it yet but I do think I will get there soon...in about six chapters or so...or maybe more...lol...enjoy the chapter!

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Six_**

_A True Dream_

_August1, 1996_

Draco Malfoy bit into his apple and continued along his walk, taking in the well cared for roses that his mother loved and the albino peacock that flew above him that his father was quite fond of, and then he looked down at his left arm, his eyes closing as they went over the hidden mark on his forearm under his long sleeved shirt. He was a death eater. The thought still made him shudder.

Draco shook himself and brought another apple out of his pocket and brought it to his mouth, sinking his teeth into it, before continuing on his stroll. He hadn't gone much farther before his name was being called. He stopped but didn't turn to look at his mother.

"Draco, I've been looking for you everywhere," Narcissa Malfoy said. "Come inside, dear, you must get ready to go to Lydie's."

Draco suppressed a groan and instead nodded, trying to find a way to get out of going. It wasn't that he hated social visits like this, just that this particular one involved Lydie Parkingson and her daughter, Pansy whom his parents continually insisted he would marry. Draco could shudder at the thought, and regardless, even if he were interested in Pansy, which he wasn't, she was in love with Blaise Zabini, not that Blaise was interested in her, who would be? But he hated being paired off with her. If he had to hear Pansy whining about how Blaise didn't like her one more time he didn't know what he was going to do.

Draco followed his mother back to the house. His mother was rambling on about something or other, gossip—he recognized—when she mentioned Mrs. So-and-so's son who had just married a muggle-born.

"The nerve of such people!" Narcissa exclaimed when she had finished telling the story and they were upon the house.

Draco nodded slightly, and moved into the foyer, trying to find an excuse for his not going, and then he felt a shock go through his arm, but the usual pain didn't follow. Still he gasped in shock. His mother looked at him questioningly.

"My arm feels—I don't know…weird—" He trailed off.

His mother looked at him concerned and then, "If he were to call you," she said, thoughtfully, then shook her head. "Fine, get your way then, Dragon."

Draco nearly smirked at how lucky he was, even though it came with Voldemort's doing. He looked at his arm warily and sighed. His mother gave him another look and walked away calling for her

personal house elf.

Relief filled Draco as he walked up the stairs to his room. He wouldn't have to see Pansy and pretend to act as if he liked her and laugh about the last few muggles that had been killed by death eaters. In fact he didn't want to see any of his friends. He couldn't hold his mask forever and not end up as messed up as his father. He wasn't a death eater—he wasn't a killer.

Draco pushed his bedroom door open and closed it behind him, leaning back against the door as he looked around his grandiose room. It was stupid, he knew, to even consider wanting to give everything up for a future he may or may not get to have being not only the son of a death eater but a death eater himself—as reluctantly as he had become one. He had considered changing sides, becoming maybe a spy for Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, but for one didn't know

how to go about it, and for two, he didn't know how he could betray his family. It was simply put, a suicide attempt. He'd have to wait until he got back to Hogwarts to even attempt considering betraying Voldemort and his family.

His room was too big. Draco had always thought it was too big, looking empty in its almost too clean state the house elf took care of. It looked like an unused room, almost. He walked across the room and threw himself into his queen-sized bed and leaned back against his numerous pillows and closed his eyes. He'd have to wait just one more month and then he would be at Hogwarts where—if he played his cards right—he could get protection from Dumbledore or—if he could hope to convince him he had changed—from Harry Potter.

Harry Potter. He'd contemplated Potter since the beginning of the summer holidays. Potter had everything. He had the whole wizarding world at his feet and yet he didn't seem to use this power. Draco sighed. He would need to get on Potter's good side soon. He needed to stop thinking so critically of him.

-

-

-

Harry's room was larger than Dudley's second bedroom, and only slightly bigger than the room he had shared with Ron at 12 Grimmauld Place, but Harry had found a certain peace come over him when he had entered his new room in his new home.

"I take it this is to your liking, then, Potter," Snape said, watching Harry as he looked around the room.

"Yes," Harry said simply.

"Probably less than you're used to with the muggles," Snape sneered.

Harry glared at him, but quickly turned away. He hadn't been expecting one of his cutting remarks, so as he looked at the room he tried to remember that this was still Severus Snape—even if he was his father. "You more than anyone," Harry found himself saying as he stepped forward, "should know that isn't true."

Harry barely saw him nod before he turned and left, though not before Harry recognized that he had wanted to say something else but hadn't.

Harry walked farther into the room, wishing that Remus had stayed and could be there talking to him, but the werewolf had Order stuff to work on, that he wouldn't identify to Harry as it was confidential. Harry had found it almost amusing to see Snape as confused as he was about whatever Remus was working on which had clearly showed him that Dumbledore didn't trust Snape as much as he claimed.

Harry sat down on the window seat, to look out into the back of the house, which he was surprised to see had extensive grounds. It would be perfect to fly out there, and he'd been missing quidditch.

-

-

-

July 17, 1996

Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace in the drawing room of the 12 Grimmauld Place. He walked forward and turned back to look at the hearth, waiting for it to turn green and Dumbledore to step out. He didn't have to wait long before the headmaster did, and putting an arm around Severus, Albus Dumbledore led him to the kitchen.

"Tea, Severus?" Albus asked.

"No, thank you, Albus," Severus said, looking around the kitchen with something akin to disgust. "You said you had something to ask of me."

"Yes." He waved his wand at the table, where a cup of tea appeared. Snape rolled his eyes and sat down, watching the headmaster as he too took a seat, brought his cup of tea to his lips, and sighed with pleasure.

Severus waited with as much patience as he could, watching Dumbledore.

"I shared with you, two weeks ago, what I had suspected about Voldemort's mortality," Dumbledore said. "I told you that my suspicions were correct that night you helped fix my hand, even if the cost for this knowledge was—will be—my life."

Severus shook his head. "I'm working on a potion for you, you won't die, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Severus, not everything can be solved with potions."

Severus glared at the glamour around Dumbledore's hand that gave the impression nothing was wrong with it.

"And so what do you need of me?"

Dumbledore hesitated a moment before he spoke, "To take care of Harry once I'm gone."

"Potter!" Severus Snapped. "Take care of Potter, of all people. I can't stand the attention seeking, self-important brat, and I need not care for him, not to mention he hates me too."

Dumbledore listened to this without interruption, and then when Severus had stopped talking and spoke, "Assumptions are never good, Severus, you of all people should know that. You've seen his memories, my boy, he is far from being this boy you describe."

Severus scoffed.

Dumbledore continued, "I want you to continue your lessons in occlumency with him this summer, and I wish for the two of you to get along. Harry is not James, Severus, and spending just one day with him in a civil nature will show you this."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Albus, wouldn't it be easier for him to learn to block his mind from you?"

"No, my boy, I wish for Harry to not rely on me, not what my fate is so decided."

"You wish him to rely on me." Snape all but snapped, sounding scandalized as if the matter was to do with something worse than someone possibly learning to depend on him. "I don't want bloody Harry Potter anywhere near me."

"Severus, that boy is not who you think he is, and he is in need of someone. After Sirius died—"

Severus interrupted Dumbledore with a mutter of, "his death was his own fault."

Dumbledore gave him a weary look, and continued, "—Harry was broken, Severus, I have not seen him since he unleashed his anger onto my office but I doubt Harry is over the death of his godfather. I love him too much to watch him in pain, to see him changed so much. Harry needs someone that will understand him in a way I can't."

"And I am that man." Severus laughed. "How about Lupin? He cares for the boy."

"Yes, Remus cares, but Remus is also busy with his own things and doesn't know occlumency as well as you, my boy."

Severus made a face.

Dumbledore took a sip of his tea, cupping the cup with his aged hands. Severus could see the shimmering around the headmaster's left hand.

"Promise me, Severus," Dumbledore insisted. "Promise me you will do your best to take care of him."

"I gave my word to Lily once that I would care for her and hers."

Dumbledore nodded. "He isn't James," he repeated to Severus. "Far from it."

Severus rolled his eyes.

-

-

-

August 1, 1996

Dinner was an interesting affair.

When Harry entered the dinning room, he found Snape sitting at the head of the table reading. He didn't look up, but raised a hand to stop Harry from speaking, his eyes moving across the page. When he looked up his black eyes met Harry's.

"Sit," He instructed.

Harry walked to the table Snape had motioned to and pulled it out, sitting down.

"What's for dinner?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure," Snape replied. "In any case, it should be here soon."

Harry gave Snape a befuddled look.

"House elves, Potter. The Hogwarts house elves often provide food and other help for the staff, even away from Hogwarts as they don't have much to do during the summer holidays."

Harry, who had never wondered what the house elves did during the summer holidays—like Hermione probably did—thought it was somewhat logical for them to continue helping out the professors, even in their own homes.

When the food appeared ten minutes later, silence had fallen upon them. Snape had picked up his book again, and Harry had silently stared at the wall wondering if dinner would always be like that, with them both just sitting there not talking; only sometimes bringing up a subject that could only be considered as small talk.

"I have a potion for you," Snape told him, when he had once more closed his book to eat his dinner.

"A potion? For what?" Harry asked.

"Nutrition," Snape stated, reaching into robes to pull out a blue colored potion, which he set in front of Harry.

"From certain eating habits observed by Lupin in the past week we have noticed that you are terribly malnourished."

Harry stared at Snape—no, his father—had that been the reason Snape had made him a late breakfast, even after he had pointed out that he wasn't hungry.

"You've always been small for your age, Potter, not at all like—" He trailed off and frowned.

Harry looked at the blue potion warily as he ate him chicken, savoring the Hogwarts food that he nearly always missed during the summer unless he was with the Weasleys. That thought made his eyes widen. He felt Snape's eyes on him but ignored them.

Ron and Hermione. What would he tell them? First Ron would laugh and tell him he was joking, and then when he recognized Harry was serious, the trouble would begin. Ron would turn as read as his hair, first, and then continue on to tell him how terrible it was for Harry to find this out. Harry could see him acting sympathetic, and then upon further realization that Harry was okay with it—he imagined at some point he would be okay with it or at least used to it—he would scream and act as if Harry had committed the worst treason. Harry groaned. He didn't want to deal with that. Hermione would listen to him, at least, but Harry couldn't imagine her understanding any of it. Knowing her, she would nag at him about it and annoy him to no end until she either got him to totally agree with her or she understood every last detail. Harry groaned again.

"Potter!"

Harry nearly jumped, and looked towards Snape.

"You were staring into space for quite a while," Snape told him, "Anything you'd like to share, Potter?"

Harry considered it, took another bite of his dinner, and then spoke, "My friends," He said. "What should I tell them? I mean, I doubt I'll see them until school but they won't take these news as well as I have—I guess. I could keep it a secret like…anyway, it would be hard, knowing them, but—I don't know."

Snape pursed his lips. "It is best no one but Remus, Dumbledore, and the two of us knows about this, at least for a time. It is harder to keep something secret if there are many more people in the secret."

Harry didn't like lying to his friends, in fact he didn't really think he should do it, but he was already keeping the prophecy from them. Keeping the fact that Snape was his father from them was just one more thing that they did not need to know, for their protection.

Harry nodded. "I hate lying to them," He muttered. "I'm not very good at it."

Snape looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I shall of course. They wouldn't take it well anyway, and if Ron got annoyed at me, who knows who he would tell."

Snape nodded once, and returned to his meal. Harry had the impression that Snape had been waiting for him to protest more, from the way he seemed to just take in what Harry said without bother.

-

-

-

August 7, 1996

Harry had a strange dream some nights later.

He was in the middle of a forest, walking along as if he had nothing to worry about. Then he came to a stop, looking with wide eyes at two people arguing, though not loudly enough for him to head them. Another person he had missed when he had first seen the other two, came into his vision a second later, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. He was hooded, standing stiff, hidden half in shadow, though Harry could make out his platinum blond hair.

"Father," the recently added person said. Harry could tell as he continued to spy on them, that this one word was said with a muffled groan that the boy—for he was shorter than the other two and Harry could tell his age from his voice—was trying to hide, perhaps from the two men, or only one of them.

"In a minute!" One of the other two hissed.

"Tend to the boy, Lucius," Harry was surprised to hear the voice of Severus Snape say.

Lucius lowered his hood and Harry recognized the man instantly. The last time he had seen him had been months previous and he had taunted and made fun of him then with his sister in law. Harry had seen the man captured by death eaters and yet, there he was, standing next to Severus Snape.

Lucius turned to his son and lifted his hand to the boy's head, pulling his hood down. Harry was surprised to see the strange paleness to his skin, the bags under his eyes, and the strange clammy like way his skin looked.

"I'm fine," Draco insisted, answering the unasked question.

Lucius said nothing to this, but instead looked to the remaining man. Snape had lost his former expression and instead looked almost concerned as he walked closer to the two. Harry followed the man he should call father with his eyes and watched as he performed a diagnostic spell on Draco, nodded to himself, and began searching his robes for potions which he handed to Lucius.

Draco drank two full phials of potions before grimacing at the sip he took of the third, though Harry could clearly see a change in his enemy.

Snape having come to the conclusion that Draco was fine after giving him a long searching look, turned to Lucius.

"What do you want, Lucius?"

Lucius moved slightly. It could have been a nervous gesture only noticed by one that knew him well, but Harry could not be sure of this.

"You've skirted the subject since you asked me to remain behind."

Harry did not hear Lucius' response. At that moment, he had felt eyes on his back and something slithering towards him.

"Nagini," Harry hissed.

The snake moved its head to the side and gave Harry a questioning look.

"Go back, Nagini, you have no business here. Tell no one you met me."

The snake hissed at him threateningly. "You speak to snakes like my master," she observed.

Harry nodded. "You will not tell him you encountered me, Nagini."

"Much nicer than my master, you are," the snake hissed back.

"So you will listen to me."

Nagini gave what could be considered a vow and then she was slithering away in search of something to eat. Harry couldn't believe his luck and turned back to looking at Snape, Lucius, and Draco.

"No, Lucius!" Snape had just said.

"Father," Draco was whispering in an urgent voice.

"Severus, please."

Was Lucius Malfoy actually begging? Harry would never have thought that even possible.

"He is nothing. He will lose and we will lose everything with him. We must do something."

Snape seemed to consider it. "Forget your thoughts, Lucius, and do not speak of them to me again!"

Lucius said nothing, but he looked worried.

Draco spoke instead. "Do you care so little for people, professor, for that is what they are, people!"

"Do you care for them, then, for the muggles and mudbloods? Or is it only your skin that you think worth saving?"

Harry listened to this intently. Where the Malfoys trying to switch sides? Why had Draco looked so sick?

The dream changed suddenly and he was standing in a library, and Draco Malfoy was waving at him from across the room.

"Harry!" He suddenly called. "Oh, come on. We have things to do."

Harry, however, did not walk towards the blond and instead headed towards a bookshelf, muttering to himself.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked, coming up behind him.

"Nothing," Harry said, almost stiffly. And then he turned, and it no longer was Draco before him, but Voldemort, and he dived at him.

Harry heard screaming around him. It took him a moment to realize it was his screams that he was hearing. His forehead was in searing pain, and a few words remained coherent in his mind. "Pleasant dreams, Harry Potter, you have given me quite some insight in certain matters." Then the cruel laughter of Voldemort, and a scream that wasn't his own. Then, Harry heard through his haze of pain, pleading.

"Azkaban for you, Malfoy! And your miserable son shall now suffer your sins."

Another scream.

And then Harry was sitting up in bed. Two hands were on his shoulders and seemed to have been shaking him. He looked up at the eyes of Snape—his father—and sent a plea. Snape's hands moved to Harry's face. He hesitated as if asking if it was alright. One look at Harry gave him an answer, and then he plunged in. Harry felt a calm feeling came over him and he almost smiled at the comfort.

**Author's Note:** So I said earlier that there is a reason why Snape is somewhat nicer to Harry at the begining...or at least i mentioned it to someone earlier. it's because of Dumbledore. Ithink, or at least i always saw Snape as very loyal, and his loyalty to Dumbledore is bigger than any hatred he holds, so this time, he does try to do what Dumbledore has asked of him, and he's begining to realize that Harry isn't his father anyway...which is irony biting him later considering he is harry's father...anyways here's to hoping you'll enjoy this chapter. Please review. Questions are always welcome...I love responding to my reviewers.

-Erika


	7. Just Another Day

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others...so this chapter answers some of the questions brought up by the last chapter...and really most of this stuff was written during school...so when I typed up ch. 7 I wasn't finished with it, but at school I had nothing to do so I started on ch. 8...the last scene of this chapter was written after ch. 8 was finished believe it or not...enjoy.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Seven_**

_Just Another Day_

August 7, 1996

Lucius Malfoy shifted in his sleep, allowing himself a groan as he came to consciousness. He lifted his head gingerly and looked around. He was in a cell like room, though the door to the cell was non-existent. He slowly sat up and groaned once more.

In the dim light from the small window for above his head he could make out his hands, his pallid skin caked with bits of dried blood. He wiped his hands on his clothes as best as he could without making much movement, before he closed his eyes and pressed his face against the cold stone wall. He had hoped to never be in Azkaban again, but there he was—sitting in a cell in Azkaban.

He heard a wail from somewhere to the left of him, and then a man wearing nothing but rags appeared before him. He was dirty, and had a somewhat foul stench, but Lucius ignored this.

"Lucius," the man drawled. "Back again. And you were the dark lord's favorite."

Lucius said nothing.

"What did you do to wind up in here, again, eh, Malfoy? Slip away again to help some muggle?"

Lucius remained silent.

The other man continued, "Of course the great Lucius Malfoy would never admit to being a muggle lover. Malfoys are better than scum like the Weasleys, aren't they?" He allowed himself a smirk. "She died, didn't she, Lucius," He stopped for dramatic effect, or so it seemed. "Screaming; pleading for her life at our lord's feet, where she belonged."

Lucius simply stared into the distance, though a glint in his eyes showed that he was listening, and that he was remembering something—he was deep in a memory.

"Poor little Lucius," the prisoner went on, "stuck in Azkaban replaying your worst memories."

Lucius moved slowly, until he was facing the other man. "What do you know about me, Rookwood?" You know nothing!" Lucius hissed.

Rookwood smirked. "I know more than you can ever expect, about you, Lucius."

Lucius looked at him blankly. "You know only things that remain irrelevant today."

"Do I, Lucius?" Rookwood laughed. "I know you still are not loyal to the Dark Lord. And how can you be? After what he did to you, does it matter that you deserved it? I know your old mate Dumbledore was the reason you left this place last time."

No one knew that. Lucius didn't give away his surprise. Rookwood laughed again, and he continued laughing as he walked away. "You will pay for your betrayal, Lucius, you or that son of yours. A half-blood, isn't he? How would Narcissa react to those news?" Rookwood sneered at him.

This time Lucius had a harder time keeping his surprise from his face. Rookwood couldn't know about that. He just couldn't possibly be aware of that!

With thoughts running through his head, and pain hitting him every time he shifted to a different position. Lucius found himself wishing that he hadn't been as stupid as to approach Severus. The greasy haired potions master had no doubt gone to Voldemort. There was no other excuse to why Voldemort had known about his betrayal. Dumbledore wouldn't get him out of this one, this time and now his son—his dragon—was going to pay for his stupidity. If he could only die so that Draco could live.

Lucius groaned again, this time it wasn't the pain of moving that made him so, but the cold feeling that had come over him. And then he spotted the hooded, gliding figure. Everything inside him went cold, and then he could hear her screams within his mind; the calls of his name, and of their dragon. Her dying breaths, and then, finally, his cold, cruel laughter. He could almost picture her dead, slumped body, surrounded by a pool of blood lying at Voldemort's feet. Her beauty unblemished by everything Voldemort had put her through.

"No!" Lucius screamed.

He heard the laughter from across the room and then everything went completely and utterly black.

-

-

-

Severus dwelled into Potter—no, Harry's—thoughts and found the right string of thought; the dream—nightmare—that had just clouded the boy's night. He grabbed onto it and was soon watching it. That Potter had allowed him this much was still a surprise to him, and then all thought was driven out of his mind. His eyes widened considerably, and he began to try and put everything together. Part of it had to be a dream—part of his imagination perhaps or his subconscious trying to figure out the other part of the 'dream'—but other parts had happened, that very night in fact. Severus shuddered. Potter—Harry, his son—had dreamed his and Lucius' entire conversation earlier that night.

Severus pulled back and let go of the sixteen year old's head, crossing the room to the hearth. With a wave of his hand the fire came to life. He reached for a flower pot atop the mantle and drabbed flood powder from within it, throwing it into the fire. Without turning to Harry, he put his head in the fire and shouted, "Dumbledore's office."

Albus Dumbledore, as Severus had expected, was in his office, wearing a nightgown in a shocking purple, but still in his office.

"Severus," He said when he saw him, stuffing a few pieces of parchment within a drawer that Severus noted almost at once, had some sort of protective shield around it.

Ignoring this for later consideration, Severus spoke quickly, "Headmaster, I'd appreciate you stepped through in a few minutes. There is much to be discussed."

When Severus returned to Potter's room, he found him sitting up at the side of his bed, eyes closed, gripping tightly to something that Severus couldn't see. It was best, he decided, to let him be. He walked across the room, to the window. He still couldn't wrap his mind completely about it. Harry Potter—no, Snape, Severus rolled his eyes at himself—had seen as clear as it had happened, a conversation between himself and Lucius Malfoy earlier that night, and even though it had been mixed within a dream from parts of it that he knew could never be remotely close to the truth, there had been the end which he didn't know if he could doubt or not. The Dark Lord being there in his dream, and Lucius' screams. It had been accurate enough, and it wasn't like Potter—Harry! He really had to get a hang of the name thing—didn't have a connection with the Dark Lord.

Severus turned when he heard Dumbledore step into the room.

"You sounded urgent, Severus, what's happened?" Dumbledore asked at once, before he spotted Harry.

Severus followed his gaze to where Harry was sitting. His head was resting against his knees now, as he had pulled his legs up against his chest, while his eyes remained closed, but his lips were moving, whispering something that Severus could not quite hear and then Harry let out a scream.

Dumbledore rushed to the sixteen year old's side, asking all the while, "What happened, Severus?"

"I arrived from the meeting just a few minutes ago. He was having a nightmare. I came in around when he woke up. I then proceeded to view the dream through legilimency—"

"You used legilimency on him?" Dumbledore looked aghast, almost murderous at Severus, as if Severus had committed a heinous crime, which Severus though ironic, considering the number of things he did as a spy. He shook his head at the thoughts. He needed to focus.

"With his permission," Severus continued. "His dream, it was more of a vision. I was asked to stay behind by Lucius, he wanted to talk to me. Po—Harry saw the entire even just as it happened, I believe. Part of it could be a dream, but I do think the Dark Lord was there near the end, or at least he allowed Harry to know he had seen the dream near the end."

Dumbledore turned back to looking at Harry and reached to him. He grasped Harry's shoulder.

Harry opened his eyes and gasped. He looked disoriented and for a second it seemed as if he was getting ready to attack, and then he relaxed.

Severus watched this with a blank expression, wondering—not for the first time—exactly how much he didn't know about one Harry Po—Snape, he wasn't a Potter, he was a Snape and it was time he accept it. Harry was his son! He wasn't Potter's son.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry explained suddenly.

Severus watched as Dumbledore allowed Harry to calm down and then spoke in a low tone to him. Harry nodded, and laid back down into bed.

"A calming draught, and maybe dreamless sleep will help him now, Severus, in the meanwhile, I do believe we could talk about the meeting tonight and what Lucius wanted with you."

Harry settled back into his bed.

After Harry had drunk his potions, and he had fallen back asleep, Dumbledore took Severus by the elbow and pulled him out of the room.

"I can see that maybe you've begun to see him in a different light."

Severus stopped and stared at the door leading to the boy's room.

"You told me he wasn't his father." Severus stated. "Even without knowledge of who his father truly was. It is true that he is not James. But he isn't me. In the time I've had with him, I've begun to see the difference between the boy I've made myself see and the boy that actually is. That is all."

Dumbledore was smiling.

"I cannot, however, be a father to him. I need to focus on this war. I never wanted a son and I don't want one now. For the sake of the order, I took him in, but as much as I could maybe tolerate the boy, I will never care for him the way that maybe he needs someone to care about him. Lupin will be better in that front."

Dumbledore gave him a somewhat disappointed look and then he walked farther down the hall, opening a door on the right hand side and entering without waiting for Severus.

Severus followed with a scowl. Dumbledore didn't seriously expect him to become a father figure to Harry blood Potter—alright, Harry Snape. He couldn't even imagine that. Harry calling him—he could shudder at the thought—father, or even worse, dad. Harry coming to him whenever he had a problem. He actually did shudder at that thought. How could Dumbledore ever think that he would be open to any sort of relationship with the boy he had thought was the son of his enemy; the boy he had hated for five years, or at least shown every amount of the notion of hate to. He hadn't even looked into the memories Lily had sent him yet, for fear of what they would contain.

"What happened? Anything of importance?" Dumbledore broke into his thoughts.

"It was the usual stuff. He was quite angry at the lack of information, and seems to have some sort of plan. At least he seemed very happy at something. Maybe that's a bad thing, but he has shared nothing with me."

Dumbledore shifted in his chair, and Severus was not surprised to see Dumbledore bring out a familiar bag. "Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, thank you, Headmaster," Severus said, choosing to instead watch Dumbledore pull two lemon drops apart that had been stuck together, before popping them both into his mouth, with the zeal of a five year old.

"I have said it, time and time again, headmaster," Severus announced a few seconds later, when he was sure that Dumbledore was no longer distracted by the sweets. "Lucius as much as he has helped the order, is not fit to be a spy. He cares too much for his son, and from what I saw he could very well be in Azkaban right now.

"I have no idea if this is true, but I have been lucky enough by the fact that I need to keep my agenda hidden from everyone."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Severus, my boy, Lucius is a good man. You know this."

"Yes, but he is still not fit to be a spy."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Says the spy," he said. "Severus, he doubts you as much as you doubt him. Maybe it is time to put differences aside. Lucius had nothing to do with her death."

"He knew about his plans to attack them and he didn't warn me, he didn't warn them!" Severus snapped.

Dumbledore sighed. "You love her still, then?"

Severus laughed a humorless laugh. "Every day I see her. In everything I do,"—he allowed himself a falter in his usually blank expression—"in him," he whispered.

Dumbledore smiled to himself, sadly.

Severus took his wand out and waved it at the floor.

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sorry my boy," he muttered.

-

-

-

Harry woke up to smell of bacon. He smiled into his soft pillow and slowly opened his eyes with a yawn. Everything that had happened the night before suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning and he sat up. Not even the bright light that drifted into the room could make him grin; the day before it had been raining and he hadn't been able to go out and practice certain quidditch maneuvers he had found in a book in Snape's—his father's—library. But he was sure he would have time that afternoon to do so, even though the dream of the night before would be haunting him the entire day as those things often did.

He stretched and quickly threw on some fresh clothes, slipping his feet into his trainers as he left his room to get himself some of the bacon he had smelt upon first waking.

The sight that met him in the kitchen was not unusual. Snape was standing by the stove, cooking, but the strange serene expression on his face was somewhat unusual.

"Good morning, sir," Harry said, picking up a piece of warm toast and biting into it.

"Harry," the potions master said in way of a morning greeting which was more than Uncle Vernon had ever done.

Harry nearly dropped his toast at the realization that Snape had not only said his first name, but that two he had said without a snide remark following or preceding it and in a tone that did not give away any frustration with Harry that he might have.

Harry said nothing to show he had even heard him and continued onto the kitchen table, were he proceeded to pile as much food as he could onto his plate. It wasn't like Snape minded and to be truthful, at times Harry felt as if Snape were trying to fatten him up, which he knew was a big possibility considering the nutrition potions the man kept making him drink. Disgusting, vile things they were too. He'd asked once if he could maybe make them taste better but his only answer had been a grunt.

During breakfast, things got somewhat stranger. Conversation was rarely something anyone would hear if they happened to stop by for breakfast at the Snape house hold, but Snape seemed to be in a good mood.

"Have you begun on your summer assignments?" Snape asked.

"Not yet, sir. I though I might begin in a day or two," Harry answered.

Snape nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else but a tap on the window interrupted him, and he set down his napkin and fork to open the window.

Two owls flew into the small kitchen. One directed to Harry, and the other for Snape. Harry recognized Pig at once and groaned.

He had yet to send a letter to either of his friends, and had been putting it off for a while. Clearly they had gone to 12 Grimmauld Place to find him gone.

Harry took the letter, and gave Pig a piece of bacon to eat as a treat, and then he opened the clean unaddressed envelope. He recognized Hermione's neat handwriting on the parchment inside.

Dear Harry,

Mrs. Weasley says we can't really write much in here just in case. No one told us where you've been taken, but its part of your studies? Well, our old pal Moony said that. Ron was beside himself when he found out you weren't staying with Snuffles' dear old mom anymore. But as long as you are alright, and you're well protected I guess we're fine with it. Ron would love to know if this has anything to do with what happened to the Dursleys. I know you didn't like them much, but they were your family and I guess you must have been somewhat upset about their death. Just don't do anything stupid, Harry! Tom will pay for what he has done to them. 

Hoping you're okay, where ever you are, 

Hermione

Harry sighed. At least she hadn't pelted him with questions. He wasn't sure he really wanted to see her. Not when it was somewhat possible that she would bother him until he accidentally let something important out. He knew she had restrained herself somewhat in her letter but in real person he didn't know how he would be able to handle Hermione.

He looked up after he was finished reading her letter and folded it. He set it down next to his plate and proceeded to continue eating. Not even Hermione could put him off eating the amazing breakfast sitting in front of him.

Snape perused the Daily Prophet with a frown, and Harry waited for him to start talking about it. It was almost ritual like, the way the potions master would cut down the wizarding paper, be it for their miscomprehension of an event, the outright lies that had obviously been put out there by the new minister whom Harry was slightly surprised had yet to contact him, which was in itself a relief.

"Blundering idiots!" Snape let out a moment later as expected. "Of course it is alright to take credit for Lucius bloody Malfoy being found within Azkaban earlier this morning."

Harry stopped with his spoon midway to his mouth. "He's in Azkaban," He whispered once he had shaken himself.

"Well of course he is, boy, where else would that buffoon be?"

Harry didn't answer.

Snape rolled his eyes unceremoniously. "They don't seem to find it suspicious at all that he was, again I repeat, found in Azkaban. Of course the ministry is attempting to cover up how or why Lucius is back, but to take credit for it."

Harry was tempted to point out that allowing people to believe the ministry was in charge was the best way to do things. Especially with everything that was going on. It had become far different than that of the previous summer, when Voldemort had been hiding and using that as a weapon to hurt Harry. This summer he was out there, displaying his power for the world to see, making more people grow to fear him all the while destroying everything in his path that could give anyone hope.

They finished their breakfast in silence. When Harry stood and took the dishes to the sink to wash them as was usual for him the morning, however, Snape brought out his wand and muttered a spell that began washing them.

"Thank you," Harry said.

Snape barely nodded his way and then strode out of the room.

Harry remained in the kitchen for a while longer and then when he had heard his father's footsteps recede; he walked out of the house. He didn't bother heading to the broom shed and instead simply walked around the grounds, wondering just what he had done to deserve the messed up life he had.

**Author's Note:** So there you go...the dream was in fact mostly true...and Snape gave out his own form of comfort...lol...calling Dumbledore and potions. He's a lot like me that man...I realized that this week. I'm terrible with comforting people...I'm terrible at showing a lot of my feelings...

One of my friend's dad died three days ago, I was told two days ago by another good friend. Our friend is completely devastated she can't even put two words together and I just haven't even gotten the courage to talk to her because I don't know what to say which is why I'm not even going to the wake which actually started an hour ago. I mean I feel bad but I just can't say it to her...I'm bad with that kind of stuff, and it isn't like we're terribly good friends so I figure I'll stay away and let her deal with it, that's the way I would deal with it.

Anyway...on a better note...I hope it rains here tomorrow because i don't want to go hiking.

As to this chapter...any questions are welcome...I really enjoyed answering the ones for the last chapter. Other than that please review!

-Erika


	8. Where Some Trouble Arises

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others...so I was going to update last night...I told myself I was going to update last night sometime last week...and of course I forgot that it was halloween until I woke up yesterday morning...and then I had planned on just staying home last night and just give out candy to the trick-or-treaters and possibly update...but after the pep-rally my best friend convinced me to go to hang out with them after school...the plan was to hang out and casually disapear before 7 so I didn't have to go to the homecoming game I wasn't planning on attending...but then they convinced me into it...more like my best friend whom I share a brain with convinced me and even though I was and still am sick after going on a quest for white shirts...because that is our class color, we would up going to the game...and fine our football team is undefeated and alright...I had fun...but it was cold...but anyhow here am with your update...hope all of you had a good Halloween...

This is an addition to this chapter that I forgot to put up the first time around...so sorry to all of you for the mistake...but I did want to adress this review because I felt it was somewhat important...but the author of the review wasn't signed on so...

**serenitygryffindor: **awsome story, awsome snape. butwhen harrys thinking you dont have to keep mentioning the fact that snape is his father. it gets rather tedious to keep hearing " oh hes my father" " my father this" "my father that" just makes it  
seem a bit odd. anyways that's all the complaints i have. hope you finish it soon. ill keep reading till you do  
sg

**My response: **There is a certain writing technique that I've developed when introducing something that is to me as the author important. It's emphasis. I mention the fact that Snape is Harry's father a lot...because to harry it's an unbelievable thing...so he has to keep reminding himself that guess what he has a father...and it is the professor that has made his life a living hell. The fact that Harry keeps correcting himself over and over again when thinking about Snape is just to show that Harry is getting used to idea...and then again I do the same to Harry's name...Snape goes on and on about not calling him Potter...you'll see later on why this is important...anyways thanks for the review and glad you're liking the story.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Eight_**

_Where some trouble arises _

_August 15, 1996_

"Again, Harry," Severus said, though his voice sounded weary, as if he didn't in particular want to continue.

Harry seemed to notice this at once, but Severus was glad the sixteen year old was smart enough to figure out that Severus did not need or want him mentioning how tired he looked. He knew he was tired, of course he did. He'd been the one to stay up all night brewing.

"Ready?" Severus asked.

Harry gave a sharp nod.

"Legilimens!" He shouted.

He was within his son's mind in a matter of minutes, but before he could plunge further, something snapped at him and he was pushed back. And then, he was staring at a brick wall. The corners of his lips lifted up, slightly, showing his pleasure, before he fought harder against the wall, looking for a weak spot. It took him at least a full minute before he found it, and then he was pushing against it, trying to break through, but suddenly he was pushed back, and then he was no longer even in Harry's mind.

Severus closed his eyes for a few seconds, and upon opening them found Harry grinning at him, tiredly. They were both in need of some rest—but not yet.

"We cannot stop yet. We're here now, we're gone this far. It's important to continue. But I do believe some chocolate is in order."

Harry laughed.

"What?"

"You sound like Remus, chocolate is a medicine for everything in his book."

Severus rolled his eyes but said, "Chocolate has certain properties that are very helpful in certain situations."

Severus turned away, then, shaking his head. Chocolate gave off endorphins that gave people the feeling of being in love, but it also helped keep people awake and aware of their surroundings. He walked around his desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a long bar of chocolate. No one would ever guess how much of a sweet tooth he had. He closed his drawer and walked back to Harry. He split the chocolate in half, before unwrapping his piece and biting into it.

They ate their chocolate in silence and then once more faced each other in Severus' study.

"Alright," Severus said. "This time I want you to try and lead me into your mind. Don't worry about attacking me, just slowly push back your wall so that it is protecting a memory, any will do. I will be trying to get at it. You need to lead me away from it, show me other things that you want me to see."

Harry nodded. "Alright," he said.

Severus gave a nod in return, and then whispered, "Legilimens."

He was again in Harry's mind. He pushed a little harder and found himself suddenly looking at flashes of a conversation involving Harry and Hermione Granger.

"Stop it, Harry," Granger laughed, hitting Harry lightly on the arm.

"What? It's completely true. Ron fancies you," Harry teased his friend.

The memory changed suddenly and Fred and George Weasley were looking at Harry incredulously. He was pushing something towards the twins and nodding.

"Just buy Ron some new dress robes with part of it."

The memory changed again. Harry was younger now and sitting on a stool in front of the great hall, staring into the inside of the sorting hat. The hat was talking.

Severus listened, interested. During his sorting, the hat had threatened—told him, really—he would do well in Gryffindor. The second choice had been Slytherin , though the hat had argued he could have also been great in Ravenclaw before stating, "Your cunning, however, might mean you'll do well in Slytherin—far too well."

"Hmm," said the Hat to Harry. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh, my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting….So where shall I put you?"

Severus heard Harry whisper, or rather think, 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.'

The hat replied, "Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that—no? Well if you're sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Severus was shocked and for a moment didn't fight Harry's will, and then he caught a glimpse of a wall.

Severus pulled back a minute later, and then he was staring at Harry standing in front of him.

"It would have been interesting, I think, back then, had you wound up in Slytherin."

Harry laughed lightly. "Did I do better this time?"

"At the beginning, but once I stopped fighting to find the missing information and just remained watching your sorting, the wall was visible. If I didn't find what I was looking for and you kept it up longer I would have almost been convinced that you had just let me within your mind. We'll have to work on that and a few other things."

Harry nodded with a yawn.

"Sleep is in order, now, I think," Severus said.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Good-night."

Severus watched Harry leave and quickly straightened up the room before he too headed to his bedroom, through a different door, hidden behind a bookshelf that he waved his wand at. As he walked into his room, he couldn't help but ponder how the last week had changed some of his views on Harry. He could now even think of the boy as Harry without forcing himself to, and he had begun to even see a different side to him.

They hadn't spent more time than the usual at mealtimes and when working on Harry's occlumency, and sometimes in his small library where Harry would sit to read while he worked on his own reading or potions journals. Maybe, he decided, it had to do with the more time they had been living together and getting comfortable with each other.

Settling into bed for the night, after not having slept the night before, Severus found to be amazingly relaxing, before he saw a glinting potion phial on the table in the opposite side of the room, sitting between a number of other potion phials, filled with his memories from 1980. He wouldn't be able to run away from them. He needed to put his memories back and soon. His last thought before falling asleep was that those memories better not have any more surprises.

-

-

-

Harry fell asleep almost at once, but woke a couple of hours later, his scar throbbing. He rubbed at it first and then, just as he had earlier that night, he put his brick wall up within his mind. The pain disappeared a moment later, and he was back asleep.

Harry didn't remember the occurrence of his scar hurting in the middle of the night until he had dressed after a quick shower, and walked into an empty kitchen.

Usually Snape was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, or waiting for a house-elf to serve breakfast from Hogwarts, but rarely had Harry woken up before Snape. The man had been tired the night before, sure, but Harry had come to realize that Severus Snape never slept past seven. With a shrug of his shoulders he began pulling out ingredients for pancakes.

Harry had just managed to finish mixing everything together and pulled out a skillet, when he heard the fire come to life in the drawing room, followed by a muttered curse and then a groan before the sound of a loud crash. Harry ran out to the other room.

Snape was lying on the ground breathing erratically. Blood covered the floor.

He wasn't unconscious, this was the first thing Harry noticed. The second thing was that he was gripping an uncorked potion phial.

Harry rushed to his father's side and grabbed the potion from his hand.

"What is this? What can I do?" He asked.

"Potion…get Albus," The potions master croaked.

Harry nodded, lifted the potion to Snape's lips and helped him down it before he quickly turned to the fire and grabbed floo powder.

The headmaster was in the middle of a conversation with Fawkes when Harry's head popped into the fire.

"Headmaster, Professor Snape, he's hurt," Harry said. "He told me to call you."

Dumbledore moved quickly and shot his patronus out at the window. "I'll be there in a moment, Harry," He said.

Harry nodded and pulled his head back. Snape was still on the ground and Harry rushed to his side. He slowly helped him sit up. Snape attempted to stand up. Harry helped him and allowed the older man to lean on him. Harry led him to the sofa and helped him sit down.

"Thank you, Harry," Snape muttered.

"Do you need anything else?" Harry asked.

Snape seemed to consider this. "There is a potion," He said at last. "It will help. It is in my bedroom. It's clear and will be found on my bedside table."

Harry nodded. He quickly ran up the stairs towards Snape's room. He found the potio at once and grabbed it, not stopping to look around the unfamiliar room, but instead rushing to give Snape the potion. When he returned Dumbledore had entered the room and seemed to be glaring at Snape, at times turning to look at the fireplace as if willing someone to enter the room through it.

"I gave nothing away, Albus," Snape said.

Dumbledore said nothing, his eyes falling on Harry.

Harry handed Snape the potion.

"Thank you," Snape said, with a quirk of his lips before turning to Dumbledore. "I gave away nothing, Albus, I shall repeat that. He was angry I did not go directly to him after talking to Lucius and he questioned me on the whereabouts of Harry. You could say that was the least he was worried about. He's more worried about the fact that Lucius was betraying him and the Dark Lord is very fond of revenge." He looked around darkly at this thought and Harry felt as if Snape was thinking of a different event.

Remus Lupin stepped into the room at that moment, looking around in a worried manner. He spotted Snape on the sofa and rushed forward.

Harry was startled at Remus' still worried expression, and he became even more surprised when Snape allowed the lycanthrope to wave his wand at him.

"He can barely remain awake, he is in pain, and still he sits here talking to you," Remus said with a snort.

Snape rolled his eyes at the other man but said nothing as Remus proceeded to pull at Snape's cloak, muttering "accio" under his breath so that a bag flew to his hands from a room in the second floor.

Harry watched in silence as Remus fixed up Snape while Dumbledore looked out the window seeming to wait patiently.

"He's planning something," Snape said at last. "I am not sure what it is, but I do believe, Albus that you remain the constant messing up his plans. I think maybe he might wish to kill you far more than Harry."

Dumbledore seemed to find this amusing, it was as if the very topic of his death was a strangely amusing topic. Harry didn't comprehend this, or the bitter look that had crossed Snape.

After Remus had finished fixing up a Snape that admittedly looked far better than he had minutes ealier, Harry noticed that some sort of dark cloud had fallen upon them.

"He called me in the middle of the night. He wanted nothing more than to ask me about Lucius, the whereabouts of Harry, and oddly enough, how well I knew Draco Malfoy. He punished me for Lucius. I managed to apparate to the floo and get here, luckily Harry was awake."

Harry had grown very curious about the elder Malfoy after his dream the week previous but had yet to be sure on Lucius Malfoy's true intentions. Was he really against Voldemort? Or was that a trick?

"Is Lucius a spy for the order?" Harry asked.

No one answered him. Dumbledore looked almost as if he wanted to tell Harry it wasn't his business. Remus looked to be as interested as Harry was in the entire matter. And Snape held his usual blank expression.

Snape was the one to answer. "Yes," He stated, hiding a grimace. "Lucius has always been more concerned with his own affairs. His switch to the order was more for personal reasons, change in certain beliefs. He has helped the order, however, and, to be fair, he has not betrayed the order, even if few know of his work for us."

-

-

-

_August 17, 1996_

"Harry!"

Harry stopped on his way to his room and walked to the slightly open door to Snape's study.

Snape was sitting behind his desk, staring at a penseive filled to the rim with memories. Harry spotted the box that had arrived for Snape on the desk next to it, filled with empty potions flasks.

"Just wanted to inform you to get your things together for tomorrow. We shall be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow afternoon."

Harry couldn't help but grin.

"I do believe, we will have much to do, Harry," Snape added, glancing once at the penseive. "You have yet to start on your summer work, from what I gathered, and"—he looked distastefully at Harry's clothing—"we must do some shopping. I also will be in need of your help preparing my lessons."

"Me? Help with potions work? I'm terrible at the subject."

Snape said nothing to that. Instead he gave the penseive a look that could only be described as a glare and then spoke to Harry again, "Time it seems has passed us rather quickly. Already the school year is upon us and there is still much to be done." Snape then waved his hand at him in clear dismissal.

Harry turned and made his way out of the room. He stopped at the door. "Thank you, sir, for everything. I think maybe we will never be father and son in the traditional way, but you've been a great professor."

Harry did not see Snape's frown at those words before he once more glared at the memories within the penseive.

-

-

-

_August 18, 1997_

Harry stepped out of the fire with a flourish. He had a bag slung over his shoulder and a number of books stacked up in his arms. He looked around the room. It was unfamiliar, with numerous bookshelves covering the walls. In fact, not one wall could be seen. Other than the books there were two comfortable looking chairs, one near the fire, and the other sitting by a writing table that sat directly across one of the oak doors in the room. A sofa sat next to the chair by the fire, and a coffee table sat in front of it, almost at the hearth.

Harry set his books on this table and dropped his bag next to it. Then he waited. Snape was supposed to come through any moment with Harry's trunk and a few more things. Harry had been set with the task of bringing Snape's things.

The fire did not turn green for another half hour, and then a very irritated Snape entered the room. Harry knew better than to inquire after what had delayed him, so he let the matter go.

"Dumbledore has informed me you will remain with me until classes begin in September. He had expanded my rooms somewhat and your room should be through"—he looked around—"that door."

Harry stood up. "Sir, could you levitate my trunk to my room?"

Snape gave him a look. "You can use magic here."

Harry nodded silently.

Snape had been acting odd all morning he hadn't once addressed him by his name and at strange times, seemed to just stare at him as if he was off in some unknown memory. Other times Snape had the most peculiar exoressions—mixtures of what Harry could only call disappointment and anger.

Harry reached into his robes pocket and pulled out his wand. He could feel his magic running through it and he dasped slightly at the recognizable feeling that had only happened once before—when he had picked up his wand for the first time. Sparks escaped the wand into the air, gave a small whistle and then disappeared.

Harry shrugged at his wand and attempted a levitating charm, but failed to lift his trunk even an inch. He tried again, but nothing happened. He waved his wand for the third time at he unmoving trunk, using a different spell this time, but once more his trunk did not go up into the air.

Harry was now frowning. He couldn't believe it. His magic just didn't seem to want to work for him. He tried a different spell. Nothing. He tried another. Once again nothing happened.

Harry opened his mouth to say another spell but did not get past the first syllable before he felt Snape's hand come to rest on his shoulder. Harry turned to look at his father.

"My—my magic," Harry whispered.

Snape said nothing. Harry doubted the potions master could have comforted him. Snape on the other hand quickly let go of his shoulder and moved, extracting his own wand out of his pocket. He swished it towards the trunk and hovered it to Harry's room.

"Come," Snape said once he had put Harry's trunk in his room.

Harry looked up. "Where?"

"The infirmary. I do believe Madame Pomfrey must have a say about this."

Harry nodded. There was nothing he could do. His magic was failing him. He'd relief on it for the past five years and now it wasn't working for him. He allowed Snape to lead him down an unfamiliar corridor, he let him continue pulling him along past his classroom and then past the great hall.

Poppy Pomfrey was cleaning, when Harry and Snape walked in.

"Severus!" The nurse exclaimed, in Harry;s opinion the woman was too happy to see the snarky potions master.

"Poppy, I need you to check Mr. Potter over."

The matron frowned. "But nothing looks to be the matter, Severus, the boy is fine."

Snape said something to her that made no sense to Harry but seemed to have given Madame Pomfrey a minute later she was leading him away from his father.

It was strange, Harry decided after he had been told to sit down on a rather comfortable plush arm chair, to be in the hospital wing without having a physical injury.

Madame Pomfrey waved her wand at him and muttered to herself. She then walked across the room, went into her office and didn't come back for another ten minutes carrying a heavy looking book. She didn't even glance at Harry and instead walked towards Snape and handed him the book. He didn't say anything but instead bent his head to read it. Harry was pretty curious as to what the two of them could be reading about, but didn't dare ask them to tell him. Instead he waited as patiently as he allowed himself to for them to finish their reading.

"Very strange," Madame Pomfrey said.

"Indeed. I've never heard of this happening, but then we are talking about the boy-who-lived. Who knows what could be possible with him. Are you sure?"

Madame Pomfrey nodded and mumbled something to herself that Harry didn't hear. She continued talking to herself for quite a while and then looked up at Snape. "I should inform the headmaster about this," She said.

Snape nodded. "Is there anything that can be done?"

The nurse shook her head. "Unless the headmaster is aware of something I am not, this is just something that he will have to wait out."

Snape seemed reluctant to accept this, but he nodded at her nonetheless. Madame Pomfrey gave him an odd look as she walked back into her office. Harry doubted Snape had noticed it, but Harry had seen it. Now they were both acting odd.

"What-what happened to my magic?" Harry asked once the nurse had left.

Snape looked at him and sighed. "It appears that your magic is expanding," he said. "However, it is not in the usual way."

Harry who hadn't even been aware of the fact that magic could expand looked at him questioningly and opened his mouth to ask about what that meant, but the nurse had re-entered the room and walking behind her was the headmaster.

"I hear you've been having some problems with your magic," Dumbledore said. "I believe I have the answer that the two of you have been looking for," He added, motioning to the nurse and potions master who looked at him with interest.

**Author's Note:** so...more trouble...looking forward to updating next chapter...any questions are welcome...everything is just shaping up...yay...-claps- maybe i'm a little high on candy...there was tons of left over candy from last night and it's all my favorites so now I have eaten like too large an amount of candy to even name...starbursts rock my socks...yes...reviews are always welcome...as are questions...as always...I love talking to my readers...

-Erika


	9. Memories

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others... and here i am with ch. 9...and all those answer you've all been wanting...as well as some other stuff

**faith: **please update soon.  
poor it bad right? im hope you don't draco come and to stay with snape and about writers do that and it's really boring.

**My response: **Draco will not go to stay with Snape...mostly because it is done too many times and because Draco does have his mother...he has his own home, it isn't like he's become an orphan and even then he's sixteen and he has friends, or at least people that pretend to be his friends. I don't think he would go to Snape really...so no Draco going to stay with Snape.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Nine_**

_Memories_

_August 17, 1996_

Severus glared at the offending basin and its whirling blue liquid. He rolled his eyes at himself. He was being stupid. He knew he was. And it was just as well. He sighed. They would change nothing of his perspective. They were just memories—his memories. He wasn't a coward, he knew this, and a bunch of memories would not harm him in the least. He moved his hand cautiously and traced the strange markings on the edge of the basin, and then with a small amount of trepidation leaned forward and fell into the memories within.

-

_Severus opened the wooden door and quickly closed it behind him, though a few flakes of snow still managed to make it into the small kitchen. He quickly brushed a few snow flakes off his shoulders and shook his hair at the hearth, before bringing out his wand and cleaning up his mess. After this he took off his heavy winter cloak and scarf and draped them over a chair, before he walked through a door across from the one he had just entered through._

_Two people sat in the next room. The woman in the closest chair to the fire with a book propped up in her lap; the man staring at her from a writing table where he seemed to be constructing a letter._

_"Severus!" Lily jumped up with a grin, and rushed to his side. "I didn't think you would come." _

_Severus just raised an eyebrow._

_She rolled her emerald eyes at him and reached for her hand. He allowed her to pull him out of the room. As he passed the other occupant he gave him a nod and continued on following her._

_Lily led him up the stairs and into the closest room to the stairs. _

_"We just finished it yesterday," She announced with a smile. _

_Severus looked around the room and nodded. He walked farther into it, looking down at the small crib sitting by the wall._

_"Perfect for it," Severus said._

_Lily grinned. "I know it's strange," she said a second later, "to be planning this so ahead of time, but James really is excited and I think he may just be okay with you as his father."_

_"He?" Severus asked._

_"James thinks I'm being silly but I just have this feeling. I just know it will be a boy."_

_Severus found himself smiling gently. Only Lily could achieve to put a true smile on his face. _

_-_

_Severus Snape moved his rook and smirked at James Potter. James groaned, but stared at the chess game spread out in front of him, seemingly to take in every piece, and then he sent his cousin his own smirk._

_"I've got you now, Snape," James said and reached forward. He moved a piece. _

_Severus did not look as if he had just been bested, instead an amused look played across his face and without a second thought moved his queen._

_"Playing that dratted game are you, now?" Lily entered the room, and even though she seemed disgusted by the chess game, a soft smile was on her lips. _

_Severus looked up at Lily and gave the red head a saint smile._

_James didn't seem to have noticed the appearance of his very pregnant wife, but instead was frowning over the chess board. Lily smiled at him fondly. _

_"If you could leave that game for just a few minutes, I would appreciate help," Lily said, her eyes never leaving James' figure. _

_-_

_He was a small pink think wrapped up in a green blanket. That was Severus' first impression of his son. But despite the strange look to him, Severus couldn't hide from himself that he at least cared for the boy—his son._

_"Isn't he beautiful?" James came up behind him. _

_Severus turned to look at the man that he had learned to hate at a young age. James was almost in tears as he looked at the boy that wasn't even his son._

_"Thank you," James said._

_Severus had nothing to respond to that. He couldn't very well say, "you're welcome." As he searched for a reply, however, James had moved towards the baby lying in a small basinet. _

_"Come here," James called in a whisper after a pregnant pause, motioning to Severus with his hand. _

_Severus hesitated for a moment, but then he stepped forward and joined James at standing in front of his son._

_"What is his name?" Severus asked._

_"Harry," James whispered. "Lily picked it out. Harry Severus Snape."_

_Severus shook his head. "Harry James Potter."_

_James gave him a dubious look, but said nothing, instead gently he reached towards Harry and brushed his hand against the soft rosy cheek of the boy he would always consider his son, and then he pulled back._

_"He's yours," James said, walking away. "He always will be."_

_Severus found he could say nothing to this. _

_-_

_Severus pushed the hair out of his face as he stepped out of the fire. He quietly moved across the room careful not to wake up the red haired woman o the couch with an open book lying on her stomach, her hand carefully sitting atop it. He walked to the kitchen but found no one, so he continued back to the other room and then walked up the stairs. He heard giggles. A small smile crept into his face and he walked to the nearest room._

_James was sitting on the floor with Harry on his lap, while bubbles floated around them and Harry was trying to grab them._

_"Having fun?" Severus asked._

_James grinned. Harry looked up, wide eyed at Severus. Severus rolled his eyes at the boy and watched him get interested in a bubble that came close to his nose, nearly brushing it. Harry let out a huge squeal and joyous giggles. _

_"I've been waiting for you," James said. "It didn't feel right, waking up Lily, but I do have to leave soon."_

_Severus nodded. James slowly stood up, holding Harry to him, and then walked towards Severus. "They're sending us out to a relatively normal patrol tonight. I should be back within two or three hours." _

_"Alright," Severus said and reached for Harry. James dropped a kiss on Harry's head and handed him to Severus, and then with a nod to Severus walked out of the room. _

_Severus gave Harry a small smile and then sighed. "Are we going to have fun tonight, Harry?"_

_Harry cocked his head to the side and reached forward with his small hand. Severus pulled his head back. "No, Harry, not my nose." _

_Harry giggled as if he understood and did not try to reach the potions master's nose again, but he pulled at his hair. Severus merely pried it off his fingers, and sent a spiral of Harry's favorite bubbles his way. Harry followed them with his glinting eyes and Severus simply smiled. It was wonderful to see his eyes light up at the smallest of things, when out in the world it was chaos that ruled everything._

_-_

_His eyes were closed as he pressed his forehead against the cool pane of glass that made up the only window in the small nursery, looking out into a cobbled street, watching a couple strolling peacefully with a small dog that didn't really seem to require the walk as it was attempting to lie down on the street and rest. His black eyes followed the two innocent muggles as the woman picked up the small dog and cuddled him in her arms, receiving happy buoyant licking from the canine. _

_Severus moved away from the window, letting the curtains fall into place. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his hand and then crossed the room to the wooden crib from which a baby looked towards him with interest. _

_"Harry," Severus said with fondness and reached to pick of the miniscule body, cradling him in his arms. "Oh, look at you, you wonderful boy." _

_Baby Harry gurgled happily, one of his arms reaching clumsily upwards as if attempting to grab something from the air._

_"Silly child, I'm not James," Severus told him as if Harry could understand perfectly well what he was saying. _

_Harry looked up at Severus perplexed. _

_"You know I love you, Harry," Severus told his son. "Even though you do not understand me, I wish you could somehow always know that I'll love you, but maybe that is what will make this better—your lack of knowledge. So I will talk freely, even though I am quite aware of what will happen in two days. I will have lost you from my memory. _

_"I can only hope that when, if, there is a moment in time when we know who and what we are to each other that then we will not lose our heads and that we can try to get this back, because at this moment I don't know if I could live without you in my life. You are my son, even if James will be your father in that perfect way that will make it so much harder for you to allow me into your life. I'm surprised at myself, really, at this attachment, because this was always the plan. You were supposed to be his not mine, maybe it's just you are so easy to love…"_

_Severus dropped a kiss on Harry's head. "Merlin, this is harder than I imagined."_

_Harry looked at him with his big green eyes as if he knew what would happen. _

_"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Severus told him. "Years from now I'll probably hate you and I won't even remember you trusting me so much, and you'll probably hate me too."_

_Harry moved slightly in his arms and Severus smiled at him crookedly before walking to Lily's chair and sitting down, holding Harry close. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to forget you," he told his son._

_-_

_Severus held Harry in his arms. The boy was calmly staring at the wall as if he knew what was going to happen. Severus smiled fondly at him and ran a hand through the boy's thin black hair. _

_They just had to wait for James now, and then everything would be done. The Potters would go into hiding and he wouldn't see them until the war was over, and then he wouldn't even remember them. He wouldn't know that their "son" was actually his. He wouldn't know that James and he had begun to have a slightly better relationship. In fact, he would know nothing at all that would make a difference even if the Dark Lord were destroyed the next day. _

_The door opened with a creak and Severus looked up. _

_Lily was in tears, and James seemed to be smiling grimly with his arm around her shoulders. They both looked reluctant to do it._

_"If I let even one little thing slip, he will know," Severus said. "It will make things worse for Harry, then. This is something we must do."_

_It had been his idea. He'd been the one to decide their course of action, and they would do it the way he wanted it to be done. He would be the only one losing anything out of all of this. They wouldn't be hurt by this, and more importantly Harry would not get involved with the Dark Lord and everything else going on, out in the world. _

_Lily nodded. "I know," she whispered. _

_"Potter," Severus said. "Let's get it over with, shall we."_

_He stood up and gave Harry a bounce. The boy smiled but did not giggle as was his usual reaction. _

_Lily sobbed and walked forward. Severus handed her Harry. Severus moved towards James and watched his cousin bring out his wand. James muttered a spell_

_-_

Severus pulled himself out of the penseive. He sat back in his chair and groaned slightly. The onslaught of emotions had been too much for him. For he who had pushed away all emotion for so long. He hadn't once imagined how much that little boy had made him feel. He had loved Harry. Loved him. And now it was an emotion that he couldn't even ponder, but now, looking back he couldn't stand how he had treated his son. He hated how much grief he had caused the green eyed boy.

It had been strange to witness those memories, to see himself hug and cuddle Harry Potter—Harry Snape—to see himself allow him so many things that he would never have allowed anyone else. He had told the baby so many things that granted he would never have understood anyway, but that he knew he would never have mentioned to anyone else.

Severus sighed. How different would his life had been had he been able to retain those memories? If the dark lord had killed Lily and James regardless he would have readily taken in Harry had he been aware of who the boy was. How would that have changed him? But still the question of whether he would have slipped haunted him. It would have ended up so much worse had that happened. He sighed. There was no changing the past. Nothing he did would bring them back or change the fact that he had asked James Potter to take his memories.

It was different to see the memories after so many years, not having felt what came with the image of the people involved before that very day, and having held an undying grudge against his cousin for the past twenty years, at least—in his mind.

He didn't know now how to even approach perhaps getting a somewhat better relationship with his son, if he even wanted to try that, but he knew he could at least try something for Lily, and—he grudgingly admitted, even though he had seen the different James in the memories—James. They wouldn't have wanted Harry to not know him, they obviously didn't, otherwise they wouldn't have gone through all the trouble. That was something else that bothered him, now. He didn't know what to do. He didn't even know if he could look at Harry and not bring back all the memories to the forefront of his mind.

Severus took a deep breath. He needed to stop over thinking it. He needed to just accept that the boy that now was his son was not the same boy that he had hugged and held as a baby. He also needed to accept that Harry did not need him as his father. He had said so earlier that night, though not in so many words. Severus frowned. Did he want to be Harry's father?

Severus rolled his eyes at himself. He brought out his wand and waved his wand at his memories and brought them up to his temple, letting them all enter his brain at once. It took a few minutes for them to set themselves and then he sighed, getting up. He needed to stop over thinking everything.

-

-

-

_August 18, 1996_

Madame Pomfrey was muttering something from her office. It was loud enough that Harry could catch some of the words, but not loud enough for him to know what she was talking about. Snape was sitting in the other side of the room, reading, while Dumbledore sat next to Harry with some sort of pensive look on his face. Harry had been sitting in the plush armchair he had been led to when he entered the hospital wing hours earlier, and simply looked around himself, deep in thought.

It was odd to think that his magic was just growing, and that the reason it had stopped working was more to do with Snape than with him. Apparently he had been completely and utterly charmed to look like James Potter, that even his magic had been altered and now, that was the beginning of his metamorphosis.

Harry sighed. That was why his wand had given out the strange sparks and whistle. Not only had it recognized his signature, but it had also denied it. That had been the part Snape didn't understand, that his wand hadn't wanted to work for him even though it had bonded—picked him—to begin with. Dumbledore, too, had not been completely sure about that part of it even with his extensive knowledge of wandlore. The entire point had been that his magic had only ever been in part, not that he hadn't been strong magically before, but, and this was the big thing, he'd had more power at his grasp but the spell his mother had put on him had hid that not only from him but everyone else around him.

Harry sighed.

Snape looked up at him.

Harry rolled his eyes at the man and turned back to simply staring at the wall opposite him. He was bored, and with Snape attempting to read an entire book so that he could figure out some way to help with the problem, and Dumbledore taking the entire thing as if it was just a walk in the park, and Madame Pomfrey worried out her wits about him, not to mention the fact that she wanted to know everything there was to know about his mother's charm on him.

"Do you wish to do something to entertain yourself, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry frowned at him, but nevertheless nodded.

Dumbledore seemed to almost be as excited about this as a child learning a new game as he brought out four strange objects from his cloak.

"Well," Dumbledore said. "I haven't played this game since I was, well, I can't even remember. I do think I know the rules, but if we have any trouble, I'm sure your father will help us out."

Snape who had been watching them snorted and hid behind his book, as if the book being between him and the headmaster would protect him from having to do anything if Dumbledore had forgotten the rules to his game.

-

-

-

It had taken the better part of two hours, but Snape had finished his reading at last, but he said nothing about the book. Instead as soon as he had closed it, he sat as still as possible in his chair before standing and leaving the room altogether. Harry who had been in the process of reading one of the magical cards that came from one of the objects Dumledore had brought out earlier had jumped at the sound of the door and his father's footsteps.

"I do believe he has some idea what might be going on," Dumbledore said with a shrug.

Harry found the headmasters entire attitude towards everything somewhat disturbing. He was too mellow!

"We will have to postpone our game, I think, Harry," Dumbledore said a moment later. "You look as if you want to rush after him. Curiosity is not always a good thing, you know."

Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded regardless.

Dumbledore waved his wand around and all his things went back into his cloak, before he stood up. "Shall we?" He asked.

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes but instead followed the headmaster out of the hospital wing.

Snape was in his classroom when they got down to the dungeons, but he was not brewing, instead he was moving papers around atop his desk and muttering to himself.

"It has to be here, I know it does," Snape said with a groan.

"What could you be looking for, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape said nothing in response but continued throwing papers about on his search for whatever it was that would be useful to him. Then suddenly he stopped as if a brilliant idea had come over him, and he was rushing past them towards his office.

"It must be here," He said again, and then after a few minutes of looking around on his desk he found what he had been looking at, he sat down and he began to read.

Harry and Dumbledore watched him from the door and waited for him to say something, but Snape didn't, because mere minutes after he had finished reading his overly important paper, Voldemort was calling him, and Harry felt his scar burn.

"Occlumency, boy!" Snape said to him, rushing past him.

Harry barely nodded, and then closed his eyes, pulling his thoughts within his mind, especially the recent development of his loss of magic, and then he pushed everything behind a tight wall. The pain was gone almost at once, and Harry opened his eyes to see his father in death eater robes rushing out the door. Dumbledore still standing next to him had a worried look on his face, Harry was surprised to see, but did not express any more concern than that.

"I'm afraid he took his precious new development with him," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked at the man and shook his head, and then said, "How can I get back into his rooms?"

"Yes, I imagine you'd like to be more comfortable. Your first day here has not exactly turned out to be the perfect day. Just through there," Dumbledore said, he showed Harry how to get back into Snape's quarters and then without further ado claimed to have a meeting with his phoenix and left.

-

-

-

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes at his mother. He'd just arrived home from the latest meeting, where thankfully Voldemort had been in a good mood, for he had not punished one of them. His mother of course, would hear none of it as she grabbed him by the shoulders and led him to the nearest chair.

"Oh, but, Draco," she cried, "there could be all number of things wrong with you."

Draco rolled his eyes at her, but allowed her to lead him away. He didn't care really, it was just that he had gotten his first assignment that night, as it were, and it was not one that he wanted or felt as if he could accomplish. He knew Voldemort was just hoping he would fail, it would be punishment for his father, for his so called treason. Draco groaned.

"What's wrong, what hurts, Draco?"

"Nothing," Draco muttered. He hated how annoying his mother had gotten lately. He blamed it on his father mostly. Most of it hadn't begun until he had wound up in Azkaban, but it had been there in the background.

"I have to kill Dumbledore," Draco muttered absentmindedly.

His mother stopped smoothing over Draco's hair and looked at him with wide eyes. "What?" She asked, then, "No. No. He can't ask you to do that. You're just a boy. You can't be expected to kill someone like Dumbledore…unless…" And realization dawned on her. "He expects you to fail, to hurt that fool of a father of yours." She groaned. "Oh, my baby!" She cried and threw her arms around him.

Draco struggled to get out of her hold, but finally relented when he felt her crying against him.

"It's alright, mum," Draco said gently and patted her almost awkwardly on the arm.

His mother cried harder. "I hate your father," she said after a moment. "He's gotten us into this mess and now he's not even here to get us out of it."

"I can do this, mother," Draco said. "I can fix this."

"You think he won't kill you, that he won't punish you when you fail?" His mother said, then, "I'm glad at least you aren't happy with this."

Draco barely gave her a nod.

"Severus!" She said suddenly. "Yes." And then she was standing and she was muttering to herself as she walked away from him.

Draco frowned. He didn't want his mother getting far too involved with the entire thing, but he wanted a way out, but that didn't mean he wanted help from Severus Snape. From what he had seen so far the man was on Voldemort's side. It was his fault his father was in prison and his fault that Draco now had the task to begin with.

Draco stood up and with a frown walked to his room. First, he needed sleep. There were only two weeks left of summer and he was going to enjoy them, especially with what he had to do once the year began.

**Author's Note: **I know that I said that everything would be answered, and it sort of has...Dumbledore told Harry mostly that the reason behind his circumstances with his magic was due to the spell placed on him...as to Snape and the book...it was the same book Poppy brought out in the last chapter and a book that concentrated on magic and wands...and Snape found something that could help...

I hinted last chapter at Snape acting odd...that was because he finally saw the memories, hence they were in this chapter...enjoy...questions are always welcome...updating next friday...please review.

-Erika


	10. The Unbrekable Vow

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others... and just so you know I've gone through a lot of trouble to get this up. I've been sitting in front of my computer for an hour and a half just trying to put this up because my computer is so slow.

Anyways...just as a warning I don't know if I'll get an update for you guys Friday because Twilight comes out...and it's the day after my birthday and my friends might just make me do something with them or I'll be having dinner with my parents. But I will try to get it out then maybe thursday otherwise saturday, but my plans are so undecided right about now that I have no idea...lol...

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Ten_**

_The Unbrekable Vow_

_August 19, 1996_

_Dear Harry,_

_Haven't heard much from you lately, Harry, Ron says it's because you're busy doing some sort of training. I dunno, but Dumbledore hasn't said anything at any order meetings, granted mum doesn't really like us being there. Anyhow, Fred and I were wondering if you'd like to come by the shop, show you our new merchandise. You have to do your shopping anyways, for school. I'm so glad to not have to go back this year. Mom was actually threatening to make us go back, but after she saw how much money we're making I think she's convinced that it wouldn't make a difference. Ron says he's going to Diagon Alley with Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Tonks, and Lupin the day after tomorrow, so if you could come then that'd be great. Can't say much more here, but I must say I'm very curious as to what you are up to currently. _

_Love,_

_Your favorite Weasley twin, and Weasley period (George)_

Harry read the letter with a small grin that he knew only one of the twins could put on his face, especially in light of everything that had happened to him in the past few days. He still couldn't understand how his magic could have just disappeared, even if he had been assured that it was only a temporary thing. Harry reached for his piece of toast and bit into it. Across from him, his father read the Daily Prophet with his usual frown.

"Anything interesting in there?" Harry asked.

Snape gave a snort. "No," He said.

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected anything, really.

"Fred and George want me to stop by their shop in two days. I do need to get my new books and I need new robes. Could we go then, my friends will be there as will Tonks and Lupin, as their protection, I assume."

Snape nodded. "Yes. Lupin informed me of this last night. I shall of course be there, but for the sake of keeping out secret I will be there on the orders of the headmaster. Your friends will just have to deal with it."

Harry laughed. He could already picture Ron's face when he saw Harry with their feared potions master. "Alright, then," He said and continued with his breakfast.

"How are your summer assignments coming along?" Snape asked a moment later as he folded his paper closed.

Harry shrugged. Truth be told he had only worked on his History of Magic essay which he hadn't exactly finished. The transfiguration had confused him, and the potions he hadn't even bothered to look at seeing as he knew that he wouldn't understand it, or be able to do it for that matter. He was terrible at potions.

"That tells me you haven't worked on any of it," Snape said. "Maybe I can offer some help."

If Harry was surprised he did not show it, but he nodded readily. Maybe Snape could make his own assignment make sense to him, as well as the transfiguration, and who knew, maybe he knew his history of magic.

"Bring it into my lab," Snape said after they had finished their breakfast. "I'll be working on quite a number of potions in there."

Harry nodded and walked back to the room Dumbledore had put in Snape's quarters for him. It was the same size as the room he had used in Snape's house. The walls were made up of blue colors as was his bedspread.

Harry walked to his trunk and opened it. He hadn't really unpacked but knew that he would have to at least to find his books for his homework. After throwing a few things on his bed he brought out his history of magic book, followed by his transfiguration, and lastly his potions text.

When he entered Snape's lab he found the potions professor gathering ingredients next to a black cauldron.

"Sit anywhere," Snape told him. "I forgot to ask," He added a second later. "Has there been any change in your magic?"

"How would I be able to tell?"

"Have you tried your wand?"

Harry shook his head, but reached into his jeans pocket where he usually kept his wand. He waved it at his book but nothing happened. He tried to light his wand, but again—nothing.

He sighed.

"It will come back to you eventually, Harry," Snape said.

Harry nodded. He was nothing without his magic. He needed it—desperately. "What are you working on," He asked instead of bringing up anything else concerning his magic.

"Pepper-up potion," Snape replied.

Harry found the entire thing odd. Snape was being nice to him and going to help him with his homework, and added to that he wasn't snapping at him while doing so.

"Have you started on any of your homework?" Snape asked, as he pulled out his knife.

"The history, but I can't really concentrate on it. I think I know what I'm writing about so it's just about getting myself to do it. What I don't really understand is Transfiguration. I don't understand the theory behind it, to even write the essay, and really I can't see how this could possibly work."

Snape didn't say anything while he cut some sort of root. Once he was done and he had equal pieces of it, he looked at Harry. "What form of transfiguration of it, is it?"

Harry opened his book and looked for the term. It took him a few minutes but then he had it. "It's referring to changing things into their opposites as in water to fire, but the way the theory is stated is what confuses me."

"Ah," Snape said. He waved his wand at his cauldron and slowly stirred something in with a stirring rod. "Well, I won't be much help to you with transfiguration, but Professor McGonagall would be happy to help. You could ask her about it. Any trouble with anything else?"

"The potions," Harry said almost in the form of a question.

Snape let out a rare laugh. "As expected. Have you even looked at the assignment? For all you know it could just say, 'have fun'."

Harry gave him a perplexed look, but shook his head. This amused Snape further.

"Potions has never been your thing," Snape said. "Not many understand them."

Harry chose this moment to argue. "I would understand them had you taught the class better. Yelling at us and expecting us to know certain things the moment we come into class doesn't help. Neither does it help that other students sabotage other's potions."

Snape sighed, but said nothing until he had finished counting his stirring under his breath. Harry watched him. Potions were enthralling. There was a lot more than just a set rule, there were possibilities that could be explored and that had interested him from the beginning, but potions had turned into a nightmare for him, with Snape and his remarks, and Malfoy getting away with everything. He'd given up on ever appreciating the class and what he could do with potions.

"I think we're going to have to start with the basics," Snape said, wiping his hands with a white cloth. "We don't have too much time, but your mother was brilliant at potions and I am a potions master. It is unthinkable that you don't have any idea what to do with them even with the little instruction of mine that seems to have gone to your head."

Harry almost smiled.

Snape looked around the classroom. "Alright. I think it should begin with brewing a potion."

Harry was surprised at this.

"I think it will be safe enough to trust you with following simple instructions," Snape continued, and then with a wave of his wand summoned a book from across the room. He flipped to the table of contents and quickly scanned it. He flipped the pages until he was somewhere in the middle of the book and then he handed it to Harry. "Try that, then we'll talk about the summer assignment."

Harry nodded and turned to the book. He scanned the page. The potion looked simple enough. He moved to one of the nearest cauldrons and set the book down next to it, and then he walked to the open cupboard that he knew would contain all the ingredients he needed.

-

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-

It was an odd thing to watch his son measure and cut ingredients for a potion. To watch him meticulously put in the most reacting ingredient and then as he observed his potion. He had never noticed that in the boy before. He'd never seen himself in his son, and now he was. In fact—Severus frowned at the revelation—Harry didn't quite look like before. They were subtle changes, small little things that one would never have seen had they not been looking. His hair was darker and less messy, of course it was still sticking out all over the place, but Severus would not doubt that it could be tamed if someone ever gave it a try. Then there were other things, like the fact that Harry had gained at least two inches in height and did not look as thin as before.

Severus continued watching him. He didn't know how to be a father. He'd never expected to be a father. It was funny, he realized, how much had changed since he had viewed those memories, but still the fear of rejection remained. Harry didn't need him, he had made that clear, and he had made it clear to him that he would not act like a father to him. They both had so much at stake.

"I'm finished," Harry said suddenly, startling him.

Severus walked towards where Harry stood, looking down at his potion. It was perfect, Severus admitted to himself. The green color was right down to the slightly blue hints of color that were supposed to sit around its corners. He gave his son a rare smile that made Harry frown and then brought out two potion flasks to bottle the potion.

"This is what I expect of only some students," Severus told him. "Granger and Malfoy are the only ones in your grade actually capable of brewing a proper potion, but now I wonder if you have more talent for this than I have given you credit for."

Harry said nothing.

Severus nodded to himself and frowned slightly before he picked up the book he had given Harry and he flipped it to the last few pages in the book.

"Brew that one," He told his son and then turned away, walking back to his pepper-up potion which he still needed to bottle.

While ladling the potion into flasks Severus watched his son gather ingredients for the potion he would be working on. He was almost startled when he heard a tapping on the door, but quickly set his potion phial down and went to open the door.

The eagle owl flew in and landed on his shoulder, extending his leg out to him. Severus untied the letter from his leg and opened it.

_Dear Severus,_

_I fear this letter is not the kind of letter I wished to pen to you, my friend. After all these terrible events that have occurred around my family I wish to ask of you a favor. You once said you would do anything for your godson, I wish that you spoke true. I rather not write anything else within this letter lest it be read by someone other than you. I wish to have tea with you, however to discuss this matter. I am available at any time this week, owl me when it would be best to meet._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

Severus stared at the letter disbelievingly. He hadn't talked to Narcissa Malfoy in a number of years and yet she wanted to have tea with him, and of course ask him a favor, one that would help Draco. He didn't really like the idea of giving his word to Narcissa that he would help Draco in whatever way he needed. He sighed. He needed to talk to the headmaster, but even Dumbledore wouldn't be much help.

He folded the letter and put it in his robes pocket. He'd have to talk to Dumbledore before writing back to her. He turned to look at Harry and saw him slowly dropping belladonna into the cauldron and stirring as he went.

"I trust you can remain here by yourself and not explode the room. I need to talk to the headmaster, I will be back shortly," Severus told Harry.

Harry nodded.

-

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-

_August 20, 1996_

"He is my son, Severus," Narcissa said in a pain filled voice. "My only son." She wrung her hands.

Severus did not say anything to this, his expression did not change. He only sipped quietly at his tea.

Narcissa continued, "You cannot understand the love a mother has for her son. To me he is just a boy. He is far from ready to kill someone. In fact, I think he's expected to fail, a fair punishment for Lucius, wouldn't you say. The dark lord wishes to only punish Lucius, nothing more. He could care less if Draco died!"

It was strangely enough exactly what was meant by the task set on Draco. And Narcissa did have a point. The boy was much too young to take on something as that. He would never get the courage enough to kill Dumbledore.

"And what do you intend to ask me to do, Narcissa? I cannot interfere with our lord's wishes. I cannot ask Draco to be spared."

"But you could lead him. You could help him. You could do everything in your power to make sure he succeeds," Narcissa said. "If not for me, do it for Draco. He does not know what it truly means to be involved in this; at least he doesn't act like it. He would appreciate help eventually, if that is the least you can do."

"I will look after your son, Narcissa," Severus said not completely reluctant.

"Will you give me an unbreakable vow?"

Severus hadn't expected this, but as he mulled the thought over Severus noticed at once that she seemed to want something else but didn't know how to bring it up or if she even should. His curiosity got the better of him. "What else is on your mind, Narcissa?"

"I want you to protect him," She said. "I want you to tell me, to promise me that you will protect him even if it means doing his task for him."

No. He wouldn't be the one to kill Dumbledore. He would not do it. He couldn't do it. But when the other option was that Draco would kill him, that he would become a murderer.

"Promise me, Severus!" Narcissa said frantically. "Promise me that you will help him, that you will protect him. That you will complete the task if he is not able to."

Severus knew he couldn't say no. Saying no would give Narcissa some idea that he wasn't completely loyal to Voldemort. With a short nod he sighed.

"Who will do the binding?" He asked.

"I will," Bellatrix said, coming out of the shadows with a strange smirk on her face. "For a moment there, I really thought you wouldn't do it, Severus, but then killing Dumbledore isn't want you want to do, is it, Severus?"

Severus gave nothing away when he spoke. "I am only loyal to the dark lord, as you should well know, Bellatrix, now let's get on with this. I have much to do before the school year starts."

Bellatrix gave him a doubtful look. Severus knew he had to go through with it now. He clasped Narcissa's hand. Bellatrix walked forward muttering to herself.

"You still don't believe I am only loyal to our lord, Bellatrix," Severus gave her a mocking smile.

She glared at him.

"Will you, Severus, watch over my son, Draco, as he attempts to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes?"

"I will," Severus said, feeling as if the world was crashing around him.

A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, protect him from harm?"

"I will," Severus said. He would would have done both of these things without the vow.

A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the fire, making a fine, flowing chain.

"And, should it prove necessary…if it seems Draco will fail…" whispered Narcissa, "will you carry out the deed that the Dark Lord has ordered Draco to perform?"

A silence fell before them. Bellatrix looked to Snape, with a strange expression. Severus took a deep breath and then rather reluctantly, eyes never leaving Bellatrix he spoke, "I will."

The last tongue of flame wound around their hands, and interlinked with the others almost snake like, and then they all disappeared.

Narcissa was crying silently. "Thank you, Severus, thank you. I knew you'd be able to help us."

Severus nodded and stood up. "I really do have to go," He said and turned to leave. Before he had, however, Narcissa had clasped both his hands.

"Thank you, Severus," She said once more.

He nodded at her and then left the room without once looking at Bellatrix.

-

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-

Harry grinned to himself. He'd just finished his Transfiguration essay with small help from Professor McGonagall and now all he needed to worry about was his potions assignment, but he couldn't start it until Snape came back from where ever he had gone off to.

"How has your summer been so far, Harry?" McGonagall asked.

"Odd." Harry grinned. "Not a bad odd, just odd."

McGonagall smiled at him. "I hope at least you've had a good long break before school starts up again. Looking forward to your classes this year?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really, but then I'm not Hermione."

McGonagall gave him a knowing nod. "There is that. How is Ms. Granger?"

"Fine. I haven't really had time to talk to my friends this summer. I've been busy with other things. Learning occlumency."

"Yes, Albus did mention that. Is that coming along well?"

Harry grinned at her. "Yes. I can complete block out Snape, now."

"Professor Snape, Harry," McGonagall corrected, then, "That is good, Harry, very good. Now, if you'll excuse me, Harry, I have quite a bit to do today. I still haven't finished with some schedules."

Harry nodded. "I should go then, I don't want to get in the way."

"Oh, you weren't, Harry, really. I just need a lot to get done. I really did enjoy talking to you and explaining everything to you." She smiled at him. "You could help me, if you want. If I get this done faster I could give myself a break later on this week. I could then maybe pick a new quidditch captain." McGonagall gave him a wink.

For lack of something better to do, and the fact that he was now sure he would be the quidditch captain, Harry grinned and nodded at his head of house and said, "What can I do?"

"I think I can trust you, Harry, to not mention any of the information you will see in here today. Because I am the deputy headmistress it is I who take care of the schedules of all the students, this is mostly so because in years past lack of communication between the head of houses has gotten schedules completely mixed up. We needed a better system. I have finished the first through fourth years which is all that I should do until now, but I need to have a list of the classes each student can't take according to how they did in their exams. That is what you can help me with, Harry.

"I need you to list every class a student can't take, starting with the sixth years, while I deal with the fifth year schedules."

Harry thought that was easy enough.

"I haven't seen my O.W.L. scores," He thought to say a moment later.

McGonagall looked up. "They were sent out with the usual Hogwarts letter."

"I didn't get that either," Harry said. He'd found it odd, and until that moment had not thought to mention it.

"Odd, but there could be a number of reasons for this," McGonagall said. "I will get you a copy of the supplies list before you leave tonight, and you could start with yourself on the list if you want to know your scores."

Harry nodded and eagerly looked for the paper with his name on it. He found it at last a few minutes later and pulled it out and then with a small sigh of worry at what he could have possibly gotten he looked at his O.W.L. results.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results**

**_Pass Grades_**

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

**_Fail Grades_**

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

**_Harry James Potter has achieved:_**

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Divination: P

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

Seven O.W.L.s! It was two more than he had hoped to expect. He hadn't doubted he would get an outstanding at Defense, and neither had he expected less than an E in Care of Magical Creatures. The E in Herbology hadn't been too much of a surprise, and the Transfiguration had been a little higher than his expected Acceptable. History of Magic he had known he would fail, after all, he had fallen asleep during the exam, what else could he have expected? But the astronomy grade, passing had been a surprise, especially considering he hadn't exactly finished that exam either. Charms was exactly as he had expected. He wasn't brilliant at the class but he wasn't terrible at it, but an E in Potions?

He had studied, there was that, and he had put a lot of effort into his potion, as well as the test so the grade shouldn't have surprised him too much. He smiled slightly. Seven O.W.L.s!

"Happy with your results, Harry?" McGonagall asked.

"Oh, yes," Harry said. "I'm surprised I managed to get an E in potions as well as an E in your class, but then I was sort of expecting the rest." Harry stopped and looked at his grades again. "But then, I'm sort of disappointed," He found himself saying. "I got an E in Potions. There goes my chosen career."

McGonagall gave him a disapproving stare. "I'm sure if you talk to him. You've spent the summer with him after all, he might be willing to let you into his class."

Harry had no doubt about that, but he also knew that Snape wouldn't want anyone knowing that he had let the boy-who-lived into his class with his O.W.L. as a meager E.

"Professor?" Harry asked a moment later. "Could you not mention it to anyone that I got an E in potions, if he does let me into his class this year I doubt he would want anyone to think he has gone soft and allowed me into his class with only an E. Of course if he does allow me he will tell everyone that Dumbledore bullied him into it."

McGonagall laughed. "Ah, Harry, you have gotten some small understanding of the man that is Severus Snape."

Harry grinned and he turned back to writing down what classes he wanted to take that year that he was currently allowed to. "These are the classes I want, Professor," He said.

"That would be fine, Harry, you will tell me if you will be taking potions this year or not as soon as you get an answer won't you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, "Of course." And then he turned back to his work, starting with Hannah Abbot.

-

-

-

"You did what!" Draco said with exasperation as he glared at his mother. He couldn't believe her. She had gone and asked his professor, the man that in his mind was somewhat at fault for his father going to Azkaban, to help him. "How will Snape help me?" He asked.

His mother sighed. "He gave me an unbreakable vow, Draco. He will die if he does not help you or at the very least protects you. He is bound to me by the vow. He will help you even if it means for him to complete the task that you are meant to do."

Draco's eyes widened. He just couldn't believe her. He didn't want to kill Dumbledore, he didn't want Snape to kill Dumbledore for that matter, in fact he liked the headmaster, as much as he claimed otherwise, and now the man was going to die, just because of his mother.

"A good lot that does to help me, mother," He said. "I can handle things on my own, you don't have to get involved in every little thing."

His mother said nothing to this, but instead shook her head and turned to leave the room. Draco stopped her. As much as he heated how involved his mother would get in his life, she was his mother. "I know you mean well," He said. "But I know what I am doing."

"You're sixteen, Draco. You don't understand the world as I do. A mother will always protect her son, at whatever cost," with that said she was gone.

Draco buried his head in his arms. It was stupid, he knew, to think that maybe he could get away with leaving Snape to do all the work now that his mother had done this. But he didn't want to become a murderer, he didn't want to kill the wizard that could mean his freedom. He sighed. There was no one that could help him. His father who had tried to leave Voldemort, or so it had appeared to him that day, was in Azkaban. Snape didn't seem like the person that would be remotely helpful to him, even though now that he was in that bind maybe he could become useful. And then there was Potter.

Potter was the answer. He knew the boy-who-lived would have to be his way into the order, or if nothing else his way out of Voldemort's claws. He just needed to somehow get on the good side of the raven haired, emerald eyed hero. He could already feel the beginning of the terrible year before him.

**Author's Note: **I know that a lot of you didn't want Severus to agree to help the Malfoys, but you'll see later on in the story how it all fits in. I've tried to keep some of the plot from HBP within this story, but I also do have my own plot...I'm just using some of HBP in here and maybe DH when I get to that point, if I do...lol...but I had to have Severus agree to help Draco. The Malfoys are just very important characters I guess. I did borrow some phrases from the book so anything obviously familiar is from the book.

I also feel like I should adress Harry's magic. I thought I put something about that in this chapter...but I really didn't so I guess I'll explain it...Harry's magic is expanding because his power was previously hidden by the spell. Obviously Snape's spell didn't help so Harry's magic is still gone...sort of like it's missing and he just has to wait for it to come back. I really feel as if I did go farther into this subject. I don't know...anyhow questions about anything are always welcome...and please review...I'll try to update thursday if I can't on friday otherwise saturday it will be...otherwise Sunday...but look at it, this way, it isn't a cliffy...at least. Please review!

-Erika


	11. Hogwarts

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others...just a little later than usual but still up and about.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Eleven_**

_Hogwarts  
_

_August 22, 1996_

Harry literally ran into Remus Lupin on his way to the dungeons from the library, carrying a number of books that Snape had recommended he read to help him with his potions work. His books slipped out of his hands and were thrown to the ground at the collision but Harry managed to stop himself from joining them at the ground. Remus had also remained on his feet and gave Harry a smile.

"Sorry," Harry said. "Books obstructed my vision."

"It's quite alright, Harry," Remus told him "I was actually looking for you. Severus said you were in the library, that's where I was headed." Remus waved his wand as he spoke and Harry's books put themselves into a neat pile.

"Thanks," Harry said and then grinned at the werewolf. "So, is it official now?"

"I'm officially your professor again, yes," Remus told him.

Harry, still grinning, said, "We do need to have that talk, then, the one about the DA members."

"Right," Remus said and levitated Harry's books. "Would you like to come to my office? We can have tea and discuss this, among other things."

"That'd be great," Harry said enthusiastically. He'd missed Remus in the few weeks he had been apart from the werewolf and now he was back.

A few minutes later they stepped into Remus' office. Harry was happy to note that it was almost exactly as it had been back when Remus had been using it during Harry's third year, including a magical creature sitting in a covered cage in the corner of the room.

"How have the living arrangements with Severus gone?" Remus asked while he fixed their tea with a wave of his wand.

Harry shrugged. He fingered a loose thread on his too big muggle shirt, another one of Dudley's belongings, and then answered, "Alright, I guess. We get along somewhat, but it's Snape; and it's me, and"—Harry let out a small laugh—"no one should ever have expected the two of us to be father and son. I think we both decided it would remain being in name only."

Remus didn't say anything for a while. When he spoke he was pouring their tea into two identical cups. "Do you wish it to be more, Harry, for him to maybe be a father to you?"

Harry didn't know how to answer that. Did he want Snape to be his father? That was basically the question. It wasn't like he hated the man anymore, but did he want to see him as his father, truly?

"I don't know," Harry said. "I don't need anyone, but he is my father, isn't he?"

Remus bought out the sugar. "How many?" He asked.

"Two," Harry said, absentmindedly, then, "He cared for me once, when I was a baby. There were memories they sent me, his memories. There was one, he was in my room, I guess, and he just told me all these things about what they were going to do and how terrible he felt about it, how he didn't want to go through with it all and how he wished things were different. I don't know, but we're not who we were then, obviously, and maybe everything might have been different if I had learned of this earlier, when I was younger, but now…" Harry trailed off. He picked up his cup of tea.

"I think, Harry, that over time you have grown to not need anyone, maybe because you never had an adult around to help you, or because you grew self-sufficient. But let's move on to a better topic. What exactly have you taught those DA members of yours?"

Harry was glad at the change of topic and threw himself into the topic, describing what each of the members could do, what spells he had taught them, their weaknesses, as well as how he had taught them, how long it had taken each of them to learn a certain spell, and the power behind their spells.

After a while they stopped.

"Will you continue the DA this year?" Remus asked.

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "We all do need to be prepared for what is out there, but you're here now, and you're a brilliant teacher, not to add to the fact that I myself will be too busy to do much of anything much less add this to my pile of things to do."

Remus smiled. "Ah, Harry, I've never felt that any of this has been right, you being put on the spot. You're just sixteen, you shouldn't have to worry about him."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't very well tell him about the prophecy, the reason he was the one that needed to train and that needed to get ready for when the time came.

Remus seemed to have realized that Harry didn't want to talk about it, however, because he changed the subject.

"I was thinking of staring off this year with the patronus charm, after all the trouble with the dementors and everything, I think everyone should know the charm. I'm thinking of starting with that for the sixth years and bringing it in later for the fourth and fifth years. The seventh years should be introduced to it, too, of course, what do you think?"

"A couple of them will know how to do it, some of them in fifth year. Ginny Weasley, for one, and Luna Lovegood. Colin Creevey must know too."

Remus nodded. "That will most likely be helpful, actually. I think I may just have you there as my student teacher," Remus laughed, and then more seriously, "I could take you on as an apprentice if you wanted to do this, it would look good on your application. Your father—" Remus stopped and smiled sadly at Harry before continuing. "—James was an auror, I'm not sure anyone told you that. He and Sirius both were. Anyhow, the only reason James got in was because of his work with our defense teacher back then.

"It will help. Regardless, I do think you have enough knowledge of defense that you could teach first through sixth year, seventh year even, considering the lack of good teachers you lot have wound up with."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "Would I have time for this?"

"What classes are you taking?"

"Potions, Defense, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and I was thinking about maybe taking Care of Magical Creatures. I've got it all covered with Professor McGonagall."

Remus tapped his fingers against his desk. "You'd need the first five classes you mentioned, but Care of Magical Creatures, what are you gaining from that?"

"Nothing, really, I just needed another class and while muggle studies is as interesting as the next thing, I would have at least had fun with Hagrid."

"Meaning, you can drop that and turn it into a free period which added to your other free period could give you enough time to become my apprentice. Professor McGonagall would not be opposed to that, I think."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. It was reasonable enough, and he didn't think it would really affect him. It wasn't like he would use his free periods to work on school work anyway, knowing Ron and the other Gryffindors not counting Hermione, he wouldn't get enough peace to work on anything.

"Alright, I guess that's sort of settled." Harry grinned at him.

"I'll tell your head of house and Dumbledore later tonight, and we'll be set. I don't think anyone would have any trouble with this." Remus shuffled the papers on his desk and finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out a beaten up watch and read the time. "We're ten minutes late to the dinner."

Harry looked towards his pile of books. "Could I leave them here, pick them up after dinner?"

"Of course, but come along, we mustn't miss dinner," Remus said, standing up.

Harry stood up moments later and Remus threw an arm around his shoulders. "Ah, Harry," Remus sighed. "I can feel the beginnings of a strange year."

Harry grinned. "The summer has not been without its surprises, either."

-

-

-

_August 23, 1996_

"How is your magic this morning?" Snape shot at him that morning when Harry entered the small kitchenette in Snape's quarters. It was here that they had breakfast every morning, brought to them by Dobby.

"Better," Harry said with a weary sigh.

It had begun to show up slightly, weakly the day before when he had woken up, and he had been excited for the most part, but there hadn't been much of a change, except for the fact that now he could hold a spell for longer than the minute and a half he had been able to the day before.

"It will become better. Just a few more weeks," Snape said as he unfolded his usual paper.

"I changed my mind about Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said. He had been trying to bring the subject up since after dinner the night before but hadn't really gotten anywhere.

Snape looked up. "Two free periods a day might help you keep up your studies," He agreed. "Why the sudden change?"

"I know I'll get nothing done during my free periods. I don't think my friends—other than Hermione—would allow me to pull out any books unless they were about quidditch, so instead Remus offered me an apprenticeship."

At this, Snape frowned.

"It's alright, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Professor McGonagall thinks it's a great idea, she said so yesterday and the headmaster is fine with it as long as it doesn't take time away from my other studies. I think as long as I manage my time, listen to Hermione mostly I could pull this off. We're done with the occlumency lessons, aren't we? And I'll be learning a lot from Remus that will no doubt help me later on."

Snape was looking at him oddly. "I wish you had talked to me about it, before deciding on this," He said. "Dumbledore and I discussed maybe allowing you independent study so you could further study not only defense but the dark arts."

"The dark arts?" Harry asked, surprised.

"To know how to defeat them, one must have knowledge of what one is fighting," Snape said. "However, if you are more concerned with your future career I will not deprive you of this."

Snape then folded his paper up and walked out of the small kitchen. Harry stared after him for a long moment before he frowned at his breakfast and stood up. He walked to his room where he found his stack of potions books. He had started perusing them the night before and had found the subject quite interesting and he had been meaning to ask Snape some questions about part of it, but he didn't think the man would want to answer anything after their talk during breakfast. Harry still didn't understand exactly why Snape had been offended, or bothered by the fact that Harry would be working with Remus.

-

-

-

Severus knocked on the headmaster's office. He heard a muffled enter and proceeded to enter the familiar round office.

"Harry is taking an apprenticeship with Lupin," Severus announced. "I was under the impression that I would be working with him on the theory of the dark arts so that some understanding of the subject can help him defeat it."

Dumbledore nodded. "And Harry will be doing that," He said "As well as his apprenticeship. I think Harry needs more than just work, he needs something fun, something he will enjoy."

Severus snorted. "He has quidditch for that."

Dumbledore gave him a look.

"I am only preoccupied by the fact that he is taking too much into his plate. He is taking five N.E.W.T.s classes, demanding classes. He will also be helping Lupin every day for two periods a day, added to this he will have homework, and then he shall be working with me on his training. The boy will not be able to handle all of this."

Dumbledore muttered something, as if adding to the list, but when Severus looked at him he shook his head.

"He will handle it, Severus, there will be quite a few alterations to his schedule yet."

Severus frowned but said nothing before he stood and walked to the fire.

"Do not underestimate your son, Severus, he is a very powerful wizard," Dumbledore said.

"I don't doubt his power, but his sanity," Severus muttered.

-

-

-

_August 24, 1996_

Harry sat on a pile of books. He looked around the charms classroom and grinned.

"Enjoying the view, Harry?" Professor Flitwick asked, entering the room and making Harry jump slightly.

After regaining his balance Harry smiled at the short charms professor. "I kind of like it up here. You can see everything. When I came in I was sort of tempted to get up here, and I sort of did it."

"One of the reasons I use it," Professor Flitwick said. "Can I help you with anything this morning, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and made his way down from the pile. "I was wondering if you needed any help. I think I may have been pestering Professor McGonagall just a tad bit too much, and she sent me to help any teacher that needed it."

"Not really, but thanks for the offer, Harry. We could on the other hand have some tea if you feel up to it this early in the morning."

"Very up to it," Harry said. "How has your summer been, Professor?"

Professor Flitwick led Harry to his office and talked about his summer in France and the research he had been able to get done for a project concerning magical levels in magical creatures.

"And your summer, Harry?"

Harry shrugged at the tiny professor. "Nothing exciting happened, I was mostly inside, staying out of the way just in case what with everything going on these days."

Flitwick nodded understandably and opened his office door. Harry followed after him and looked around the unfamiliar room. He had never been in the charms professor office before and found that the office very much described his professor. It was all full of warmth and radiated kindness and welcoming.

"What will we be learning this year, Professor?" Harry asked, after a few subjects had been exhausted.

Flitwick clapped his hands enthusiastically. "I have a treat for you lot this year, but I won't ruin the surprise just yet! We will, however, be learning a lot more about the creation of spells. Miss Granger will enjoy that, I think."

Harry nodded, readily, wondering what the charms professor would have in store for them.

-

-

-

_August 25, 1996_

It was odd, shopping with Snape, Harry realized the moment he stepped into Gladrags with Snape following close behind under the disguise of Remus who had agreed to give Snape some of his hair as to make sure no one guessed at Snape's true alliances. Snape had a flask hidden in his robes that he would take sips from at every half hour just in case, to keep the polijuice working. Even though they had meant to go shopping with Ron and Hermione, due to a number of things, their plans had been changed and he and Snape had wound up shopping four days later, alone.

"Unlike those atrocious muggles," Snape said once they were in the shop and browsing through clothes. "I do wish you to have a wardrobe that would not embarrass anyone in your presence." And then he proceeded to gather clothes and hand them to Harry, pushing him towards the changing rooms to make him try them on.

After giving Snape a dark look, he tried some of them out and found he liked how he felt wearing clothes that actually fit him, not that he had always just worn the old clothes from Dudley, after all at Hogwarts he was nearly always in robes, but having muggle clothes that fit him without his having to roll the sleeves over or use a belt felt nice.

They spent more than half an hour in Gladrags and when they left, Snape was shrinking a number of bags of clothes that he had insisted Harry need, ignoring Harry's protests, and still they weren't done with their shopping.

Next Snape took Harry to Madame Malkin's to get Harry not only school robes, but other robes and a few extra cloaks other than the usual black one required by the school.

"I have more than enough clothes," Harry said in complaint as Snape made him don a green cloak that seemed to bring out his eyes, as Madame Malkin had proclaimed upon seeing Snape hand it to Harry.

"Yes, lovely, dear," She said, now, while looking at Harry.

The shopping did not stop after finally finishing the gatherings of Harry's new wardrobe, instead it continued. It continued on to the apothecary, where Snape gathered a number of herbs and gruesome potion ingredients, not only for himself but to replenish Harry's own potion stores.

Then it was to Flourish and Botts where Harry bought a number of books, not all of them for his classes, but some that had interested him on sight, and others that Snape told him would help him greatly in certain of his classes, as well as other books that Snape handed him and told him would help him with his extra lessons with him, which Harry hadn't until that moment known he would be having.

Snape also bought his own collection of books, a much larger pile than Harry even, and Harry wondered where Snape would put those books as well as when he would even have time to bother with reading them, but he said nothing as they paid for their belongings and moved on to buy Harry a new cauldron, and then parchment, ink, and quills.

By the time Harry once entered Hogwarts again right after lunch he was tired, and ready to go to sleep, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. Dumbledore had asked him to go to his office the moment he arrived from Diagon Alley, and Harry intended to do as he was asked.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when Harry entered the office, followed by Snape. Remus was already within and was slowly looking over a piece of parchment. He grinned when Harry entered and Harry took the seat next to his werewolf friend. Snape sneered at them, but Harry didn't take notice of this. Remus did, but he said nothing.

"Now what is this about, Albus?" Snape asked almost at once, not bothering to take his seat, but remaining standing behind the empty chair that had been meant for him.

"Why, Harry's schedule," Dumbledore said as if it was the obvious thing. "His school schedule has been dealt with already and it cannot be changed, but Harry will be doing four extracurricular activities this year."

"Four?" Snape asked. "I thought only two. His training with me, and his apprenticeship."

"Ah, but you forget quidditch," Dumbledore said.

"And the fourth?" Snape asked.

"Why, his lessons with me," Dumbledore said.

"Lessons with you, sir?" Harry asked, just as surprised as the other two occupants of the room.

"Yes, there is much that I should have told you, Harry, as you proved to me last year, and with so limited time as we have I must share with you the knowledge that even I have not interpreted to its fullest. I cannot put a specific time to each of our meetings. I am a busy man with much to do, but I will inform you as much in advance as I can to when our meetings will be. I ask that you be excused from any other thing during those nights, that includes quidditch."

Harry nodded, but said nothing.

"I will not require Harry to come to me in the evenings," Remus put in. "The only time I require of him is his free periods during the day and every other Saturday afternoon."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Two nights a week he must be in my rooms, they can vary if that will make it easier to get away with no one noticing our patterns. I also think the weekend, maybe Saturday evening or Sunday afternoon will be needed."

Harry watched the entire thing with slight amusement. It was like parents deciding on which days each got him after a hasty divorce. He almost laughed at imagining how they would take it if he actually told them that was how they sounded.

"Is this alright with you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, fine," Harry said.

**Author's Note: **This chapter was really interesting to write, and I know it's just a filler chapter almost...-shrug- reviews are appreciated...and updating friday.

-Erika


	12. First Day Back

**Author's Note: **Again thank you for the reviews...and hopefully you'll enjoy this next chapter in the story as much as you've enjoyed the others...just a little later than usual but still up and about...blaming my shopping yesterday...anyways enjoy

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Twelve_**

_First Day Back  
_

_September 1, 1996_

Hermione Granger followed Ginny and Ron Weasley into an empty compartment.

"Where's Harry, do you reckon?" Ron asked while helping Ginny with her trunk.

Hermione shrugged. "I haven't heard much from him, I was surprised he didn't show up at Diagon Alley that other day, but I guess he's busy with everything. Training, I'm assuming."

Before Ron or Ginny could respond, the compartment door was opened and Draco Malfoy stepped inside already in his robes, with his prefect badge pinned to his chest. His blond hair was in his eyes and he looked almost angelic, except that a smirk was on his lips.

Draco said nothing even though he looked as if he wanted to. Instead he headed to the window looking out at the platform and sat down. Not even Ron could say anything with his surprise. Ginny simply looked at him wide-eyed, while Hermione calmly took her seat and stared thoughtfully at Draco.

Ron frowned but said nothing and pulled Ginny to sit next to him as for from Draco as possible. He glared at the blond.

"So," Ginny said as if to break the ice, "Is this how the prefect compartment always is? Percy almost made it feel as if we were missing something great."

No one answered her. Ron was still glaring at Draco, and Hermione was now looking out of the compartment door as if willing someone to enter and break the awkwardness.

"Where is Harry?" Ron asked suddenly. "Everyone is on the train practically and there is only"—he looked at his worn old watch—"ten minutes for him to get here."

Hermione looked at Ron. She frowned. "He could be on the train, maybe."

Ron shook his head. "He would have seen us, or we would have seen him."

Ginny sighed. "He is okay, right guys?"

"Lupin said so, but he left so abruptly, just completely out of the blue," Ron said slumping his shoulder.

Ernie McMillan chose that moment to enter the compartment, as he did Draco looked up. Ernie greeted them all and sat down. Hannah Abbot followed him as well as a couple from Ravenclaw, Colin Creevey, Pansy Parkinson, and two other Slytherins.

Draco merely nodded at all of them, once, stiffly, not once meeting any of their eyes before he once more stared out the window.

"Draco!" Pansy cried as she took a seat next to him and reached for his hand.

Draco didn't pull his hand away, but the hand clasped to his made no difference to his expression.

The prefects' meeting lasted a little over an hour, and then they were all heading to different compartments to hang out with friends. Draco, Hermione noted attempted to remain behind but was pulled out by Pansy who was babbling to him about something.

Ron and Hermione went to the compartment that Neville and Luna had wound up sitting in, with Ginny following them. Once they had settled themselves, the subject of Harry once more come up.

"Did he ever owl an explanation for not coming to Diagon Alley?" Neville asked.

"No," Ron said. "And he isn't on the train."

"He's just busy," Hermione said. "For all we know he's already at Hogwarts training or something."

Ron nodded and said nothing else on the matter.

"What was up with Malfoy today?" Ginny asked suddenly. "He looked depressed, maybe a little quieter, different from last year, anyway."

Ron shrugged.

Hermione bit her lip. "He grew up," She muttered to them. "The war, maybe it's changed him."

Ron looked as if he wanted to argue, but Neville spoke first, "What happened? Did Malfoy say something?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, it's that he said nothing."

-

-

-

Harry was running. He was late. He hadn't exactly meant to get caught up, but he had just figured out why his potion had reacted the way it had and then he had wanted to research something else. He knew, now, how Hermione felt. He had never expected that he would, but he needed to get to the Great Hall before the first years were led in to get sorted. He'd promised Snape that he wouldn't be late and he would make sure that he checked the time, which made his being late even worse.

Harry came to a stop. Professor McGonagall was walking into the Great Hall and the first years were walking behind her in awe of the castle. Harry threw himself behind a suit of armor. A couple of the first years, two girls that to Harry looked miniscule giggled and looked at him. Harry gave them a wave, followed by a wink and then touched his lips with his fingers. They giggled even more, but followed the other first years.

Harry quickly, sneakily ran after them and while most people were looking at the first years, made his way to the Gryffindor table. He took a seat near the middle of the table, startling Hermione and Ron when he slipped into the empty seat between them. Before he could turn to his shocked best friends, however, he looked up at the staff table. He grinned when Remus gave him a small smile and wink. Dumbledore looked amused down the table from Remus, while Snape looked as strict as ever, and as if he felt Harry needed some punishment for his crime. McGonagall pursed her lips at him but Harry could see it wasn't because she disapproved but that she was fighting a smile.

"Where were you?" Hermione asked next to him. "We were so worried. You weren't on the train and then you weren't in here either, we thought maybe you might not be coming to Hogwarts at all this year."

Harry shrugged, but didn't answer, because the hat had stopped singing and the sorting had begun. Harry found himself seeking out the two first years that had spotted him, out in the crowd.

"Ah, there they are," He said to himself in a small whisper.

"Who?" Ron asked, though he didn't, Harry noticed, pay attention to see if he would answer and instead looked longingly at his empty plate.

"No one," Harry said more for the benefit of Hermione who had a questioning look on her face. "Just some first years that saw me earlier."

"We were not that short when we were first years," Ron told them a moment later as one of the smaller first years, a boy with curly light brown hair ran up to the stool and scrambled onto it before allowing the hat to cover half his face when he slipped it on.

The hat took a long moment to decide on his house and then called, "Ravenclaw!"

"No, really, we weren't that short," Ron said while the Ravenclaw table burst into cheers for their new member.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry said nothing but just continued watching the sorting, waiting for one of the two girls to be called, however, he couldn't help but disagree with Ron. He had been that small when he had arrived at Hogwarts, he'd been a scrawny, diminutive eleven year old.

Harry did not catch her name, but noticed when the blond first year he had seen earlier ran up to the stool and sat down, pulling the hat over her head covering her blue eyes.

"Gryffindor!" The hat shouted and Harry clapped with the rest as she made her way to the table at a brisk pace, looking for an empty seat, consequently the seat across from Harry was empty, and she slipped into it, between Lavender Brown, and Dean Thomas.

"Hi," she said nervously around the table.

Lavender gave her a small smile but turned quickly back to Parvati. Dean barely nodded at her and continued looking at whatever magazine he and Seamus had under the table. Hermione gave the first year a welcoming smile, and Ron chose to completely not even notice her. He was still glaring at his empty plate.

Harry was the only one to greet her verbally with a hello.

The sorting continued on until the other girl he had seen earlier was up. She was a deep contrast to the other, with her dark hair.

"Slytherin!" The hat shouted within a few seconds if it being on her head and she walked slowly to the table that Harry had not yet given a glance at yet.

When Harry turned to look at it, he found Draco Malfoy staring at him in a confused manner.

The sorting was finished a moment later and then Dumbledore was standing. He smiled at them and then said a number of odd words before the feast was upon them.

"So, where were you?" Hermione asked again.

Harry bit into his chicken and took a minute to swallow. "I'll tell you later," He said. "Too many people."

Hermione gave him a dubious look, but didn't press the matter. Ron was ignoring both of them and stuffing his mouth with food. Across from him, Lavender was giving him flirtatious looks but Ron either was ignoring them or did not notice them; Harry would bet his left arm that Ron hadn't noticed them.

"You're Harry Potter, right?"

Harry looked across the table to the first year. "Yes," he answered.

"It's just I didn't know if you were. I mean, I've heard about you, of course, who hasn't? But I've never seen a picture of you and you're so normal, nothing like I expected you to act." She blushed.

Ron snickered.

-

-

-

_September 2, 1996_

Harry's first day of classes was memorable. It began well enough. He was the first one awake in his dorm room, and could still hear the snoring coming from Ron's bed as he grabbed his Hogwarts uniform and dressed quickly, before he grabbed the potions book he had been reading the night before while working on the potion that had waylaid him.

He hadn't gotten a chance to tell Hermione and Ron his cover story yet as to where he had been. Snape had been the one to save him from telling them anything, informing him as he was leaving the great hall. Harry could chuckle at the memory of the night before.

Harry was walking out of the great hall next to Hermione who was calling for the first years to follow her, but he hadn't even gotten to the door before he was stopped by Snape.

"Mr. Potter," Snape had drawled. "It is interesting how much like your insufferable father you are, breaking the rules on the first night back. I'm surprised even you could beat his record of fastest detention gotten within the halls of Hogwarts. In fact, you will serve it tonight, come along."

Ron had given Harry a stricken look, and Hermione had looked as if she wanted to argue, and while Harry had put up a front of the annoyed unfairly treated teenager he had said nothing and instead simply followed Snape.

Harry walked down into the common room and wasn't completely surprised to find Hermione already sitting in one of the most comfortable chairs in the common room a book open on her lap.

"Harry!" She said when she saw him, and quickly closed her book. "What are you doing up so early. I would have thought you would sleep in. What time did you get in last night, Ron and I waited but it was getting late and I mean today is our first day, we would have waited."

"No, it's alright. I got in somewhat late," Harry said. "It's part of the whole thing with last night, the reason I was late. I figured Snape would be mad."

Hermione perked up at mention of the night before. "Where were you? You weren't on the train and all and then you were late to dinner."

Harry sighed. "I was brewing a potion."

Hermione gave him a doubtful look.

"No, really, I was. The reason why I didn't tell you earlier is that no student should be allowed to stay at Hogwarts unless they're related to one of the staff, and it would be like especial preference, but really I only got here a day earlier than all of you. I've been training in everything really and I started on this one potion and I got caught up. They're really interesting potions, and I need to get a hang of them or Snape won't let me stay in the class. Anyhow, I was working on one of them, Snape told me he would let me as long as I made it to dinner on time, hence the detention."

Hermione frowned. Harry knew she had found something wrong with everything. "Then why did you stay with him so long?"

"Oh, right. Well, after continuing on with the potion, because Snape felt it was just the thing I needed to do, and exploding the cauldron, I got this burn on my arm, so I had to go to Madame Pomfrey, and she wouldn't let me leave until then."

It wasn't a complete lie. He had gotten burnt, and he had gone to the infirmary, but only because Snape had given her the last of his burn salve. But afterwards they had gone back to Snape's lab and had discussed his potion as well as the dangers of not paying attention to the time, as well as reacting ingredients.

Hermione didn't look like she liked the explanation but she let it go, as if she realized she was not going to get a straight answer and she would get one eventually depending on how much she pushed.

"Then where were you this summer?"

"Can't tell you, I'm not the secret keeper," Harry said. "We were at a safe house."

"Who was training you?"

Harry shrugged. "Really can't mention that one," He said and then looked at his book. He had hoped to be able to get some reading done, but it seemed that, that wasn't going to be the case.

Hermione who had decided to stop asking questions, said instead, "Should we head down to the great hall? No use in waiting for Ron, is there?"

"It's a little early, Hermione," Harry protested, "And Ron will probably want to head down with us too."

Hermione looked a little put out.

When Harry asked her what was wrong she said, "I just want to look at my new schedule, and prepare for the classes. I mean I know what I want to take and everything, and I have some idea how everything will fit, but what if I can't take something I have to fix my entire studying schedule and it took a week to prepare."

Harry laughed. "Fine, come on," Harry said. "We might as well go. I already know my schedule. McGonagall gave it to me yesterday, mostly because Snape, Remus, Dumbledore and I had to discuss it and how things are all fitting in. Snape didn't want to let me take Potions. I got an E on the OWL but he only takes O students, but Dumbledore convinced him that part of that was his fault. And then Remus convinced me that I shouldn't take Care of Magical Creatures, and he offered me an apprenticeship, which I am doing, by the way. So we had to fix everything. "

Hermione looked at him open mouthed. "So what are you taking?" She asked.

"Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Defense, but really spread throughout the week I have tons of time to help Remus and work on my potions."

Hermione said nothing but instead continued down to the great hall in silence.

-

-

-

Their first class begun just like any other charms class, with Professor Flitwick greeting all his students back with excitement but issuing his rules for his classroom that shouldn't have been forgotten. And then he had demonstrated what they were going to begin working on in the next few days after doing the entire theory behind the subject. Harry was glad about that part, all things considered he couldn't do his usual magic just yet, though it had gotten much stronger than before and he was able to do basic versions of all the spells he had learnt so far. Snape had told him that it would just take a little more time, but Harry was truly just getting frustrated with the entire thing.

The next period, while Hermione went off to Ancient Runes, and Ron to Care of Magical Creatures, Harry headed to the third floor to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. When he arrived every seat was filled, all with first years. Gryffindors and Slytherins. Remus was not within the classroom but his office and Harry quickly ducked into it as well.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said. "Is this your free period?"

Harry nodded.

"Great. First year Gryffindors and Slytherins. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking."

Harry laughed. "I think he is attempting more promotion at house unity, but it hasn't exactly worked ever. I'm assuming he's starting much earlier than usual."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well come on, today, you're observing and learning names. Maybe you'd like to take roll. I need to write up a small note to Minerva about a certain third year Gryffindor."

"Alright," Harry said and began calling roll.

-

-

-

Harry entered the great hall alone after his first free period with Remus. He was grinning. It had gone great, granted they hadn't really done much but introduce themselves. The first years had gone nuts when they heard his name, even though, Harry thought, they should really have known who he was the moment he stepped into the room, not that he wanted to sound conceited.

"Hey, Harry," Imogen Copperfield—Imy for short—said, when Harry sat down. He had finally learned her name the night before during dinner and thought of her almost like a little sister, even though he had met her only the night before, but there was something to be said about the innocence of the young, she was full of it.

"How's your first day so far?" Harry asked, while piling his plate full of food.

"Great. It's a little strange with all the things in the castle, cool really. I've been late to two classes already. I couldn't find the stairs and no one would help me."

Harry laughed. "Ron and I got to Transfiguration late on our first day, and we thought we were so lucky, McGonagall wasn't there. I hadn't seen her transform into a cat before then, and suddenly she jumped at us and turned into herself. We were so scared."

Imy laughed.

Harry grinned at her and turned to his food just as Ron, followed by Hermione entered the Great Hall and spotted him.

"Hello, munchkin," Ron said to Imy, patting her on the head.

She scrunched up her nose and gave him a half-hearted glare. Ron laughed and began to grab anything within his vicinity. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"How was it with Remus?" She instead asked Harry, and began to put a modest pile of food onto her own plate.

"Fine. Fun, actually. We just got introductions done today. It will be interesting to help teach."

"I wonder," Hermione said. "Won't you consider teaching? Being a professor? I mean, you were brilliant last year with the DA, and now with Remus helping him teach, wouldn't it be better than becoming an auror?"

She had a point, but becoming an auror had been a dream of his since his fourth year, he had been fascinated by the job the moment he heard of it, and it wasn't like he didn't do that already. He was almost perfect for the job. He said nothing to Hermione, and instead continued eating his food.

"What do we have next?" Ron asked once he had finished stuffing his mouth with food.

Hermione didn't bother pulling out her schedule, but instead answered readily, "Double Potions, and then a free period."

"I'm not taking potions this year," Ron said. He sighed and reached into his pocket, bringing out his schedule. "I have a free period, then another free period. Want to go out to the quidditch pitch, we have all that time, and soon we'll have tons of homework."

"I have potions, Ron," Harry said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Ron sighed. "Of course you do." Then after having thought it out. "Wait, how did you get into potions? You couldn't have gotten more than an E."

"I've talked to Professor Snape and we've come to an agreement. I'll tell you about it later."

Harry and Hermione made their way to the dungeons as soon as the bell had rung, after making Ron promise that he would show Imy to the charms classroom.

"What do you think he's going to teach us?"

Harry shrugged. "Knowing Snape he's probably going to give us a test." Harry didn't know it at the moment but his statement happened to be true.

There were only two Slytherins in the N.E.W.T.s. Potions class. Those two happened to be Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Three Ravenclaws sat in the back of the room, they were Padma Patil, another girl that Harry had never seen before, and a boy whose name Harry had forgotten but who was on the Ravenclaw quidditch team. He, Hermione, and surprisingly Neville Longbottom were the only Gryffindors, and there was one Hufflepuff, Ernie McMillan. In total they were nine. It was going to be an interesting class.

Snape began the class by counting them and announcing to the class that there would be four groups, and that they had a minute to chose. Zabini who had been eyeing the nameless Ravenclaw girl quickly asked her to be his partner. Malfoy glared at him and tried to get him to see reason, but it wasn't working for the girl had readily agreed and she and Zabini were already talking to each other animatedly.

Before Harry could catch Hermione's eye and get her to be his partner she had joined Neville at a different table. He made to stand up and join them, having done the math and figured out that one of their groups would have three people, however, Ernie had already sat down next to Neville. The last two Ravenclaws had already taken a table near the front. Harry looked towards the other two groups, sitting closer to the back, and then to the other person without a partner. Draco Malfoy, too was looking at him, but it didn't seem to phase him that Harry would be his new partner.

"Potter!" Snape snapped.

Harry jumped and looked up.

"Move, Potter!"

Harry sighed and gathered his things and walked with slow deliberation to the table in the middle of the room. He dropped his things unceremoniously onto it and sat down. Snape was glaring at him, and Harry glared back.

"Now, that that is settled," Snape continued. "Today you will be taking a test."

Hermione shot Harry an incredulous look.

Harry shrugged and muttered to her as loud as he could, "I had nothing to do with it, even if I did predict it."

For some reason Malfoy found that amusing and let out a small laugh. Harry gave him a look before rolling his eyes.

"You cannot work with your new partner or partners, you cannot cheat, all instructions must be followed. This will be turned in by the end of the first period. I expect everyone to finish." With that said, Snape waved his wand at the air and parchment was before every student.

Harry sneaked a glance at Malfoy's parchment before beginning, and found that Malfoy's questions were not the same as his, or were at least not in the same order. Harry grinned to himself and then began. To his surprise he knew the answer to the first question, and the next. The third made him think a little harder, but after a moments consideration he knew what the answer could be, and so it went on.

Harry was not the first to finish the test, that honor went to Hermione, but he was the second, and he was pretty confident in himself that he had gotten at least eighty percent of them right, if not all.

It was strange, Harry thought, as he waited for the rest of them to finish, that Malfoy had said nothing snide to him, like he usually would have. He wondered if it was something to with his father being in Azkaban, or perhaps—Harry glanced at Malfoy's left arm—the fact that he possibly was a death eater.

"Time," Snape called out. Then with a wave of his wand all the parchments were on his desk in a neat stack. Neville somewhere behind Harry groaned and Harry knew the other Gryffindor had not done particularly well on that test.

When he turned to look at them, he noticed that Hermione was patting him on the shoulder and whispering comforting words to him. Harry turned back to Snape a second later and noticed that he had put instructions up on the board. The potion Harry was surprised to see, was the same one that had made him late for dinner. Inwardly he smiled to himself.

"I'll get the ingredients, Potter," Malfoy said. "Get the cauldron set up, and try not to melt it before we even begin."

Even though his comment meant to insult, Harry found that the voice of the Slytherin did not carry its usual malice but was almost teasing. Harry decided he was just imagining things and shook his head, and quickly began to prepare their cauldron, something he had been doing for the past week, and he could probably manage in his sleep.

"Here," Malfoy shoved a few things towards him. "Prepare those, I'll start doing the same with the rest."

Harry barely gave him a nod and began.

Harry was too focused, about fifteen minutes later, on the number of counterclockwise stirs on his cauldron that he did not hear the hissing sound coming from the potion behind him—but Malfoy did. Malfoy first alerted Snape and then turned to tell Harry to move just in case when it exploded, falling towards them, and before they could even possibly move it was covering them both and their own potion which proceeded to give a large gurgle before it flew out of the cauldron in some sort of green foam that seemed to cover the classroom. The last thing Harry saw before he fell unconscious was Draco Malfoy trying to grab his hand and pull him as far away from the foam as possible.

**Author's Note: **Waking up at 5 am for black friday shopping yesterday threw me off, so that by the time I was in bed last night half asleep i didn't even know what day it was. So i forgot to update. anyhow, this chapter was mostly a filler setting up the next few chapters and just most of the part of this story. Anyhow...nothing more to say about that...updating friday, and this time I'll be sure to do it that night. please review!

-Erika


	13. Property of the Half Blood Prince

**Author's Note: **And we finally reach probably the chapter that I really enjoyed writing for some reason. I'm not quite sure what happened while I was writing this chapter, but it just came out this way and I really liked it this way. Anyhow, other than that enjoy it! By the way, I have added pictures for this story and will be adding a picture for this chapter today on my profile for any of you that have time to view them.

I do have to respond to one of my readers, however.

**Chris:**

Just one question: How the hell did Neville manage to get an O in his potions OWL? I know he is good in Herbology and that should help with the theoretical part of the exam, but the practical? Even without Snape present to frighten him - this seems rather odd! But maybe you have a good explanation/reason for it?  
Anyway - a very nice story so far, I enjoy it greatly! I just hope that there will be more interaction between father and son soon, pluss Harry understanding that he 1. could really only profit from having a father/adult in his life and 2. that Snape would really like to play that role! But then again, Harry has never been one to recognize subtle signs - I mean those you have done a great job with laying out so far...  
Looking forward to your update - please soon! That was a mean cliffy by the way!

**My Response:**

Neville did not manage an O, but he did get an E. Being good in Herbology helped, as did the fact that Snape wasn't over his shoulder. However, and I guess I should explain this to everyone if I never get around to putting it in the story, Neville did get extra instruction on the subject, not by Snape but someone else that did help him. I had to get Neville into the class for more than just this incident and this was one of the few ways I could. I can't really give you my reason for this, but it is a good one...so no worries there.

Father and son interaction will be a must of course and there will be lots to come throughout the entire story. As to Harry realizing that he needs an adult in his life and that Snape is ideal for that...Harry has always been self reliant, which is something that has worked for him for a long time. If he depends on anyone else he knows that he will end up being hurt...so he has a lot to begin to realize, I guess, until he accepts that Snape is actually someone he needs in his life.

Thanks for the review. I'm so glad you like the story.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

_Property of the Half-Blood Prince  
_

_September 2, 1996_

Harry woke up to yelling.

"How could that boy even be allowed in my class, Albus, he may have managed an E on the O.W.L., who knows how exactly, but he remains as brainless as ever. More than one students could have been injured had it not been for Potter and Malfoy's potion."

Dumbledore said nothing in response, as far as Harry could tell and then there were footsteps approaching his cot.

"He's awake, Professors," Madame Pomfrey announced to the entire room, looking down at Harry.

Someone else stepped forward and Harry could make out the blurry figure of Severus Snape.

"Glasses," Harry said, attempting to look for them on the table next to his bed where he usually found them when he woke up from his latest incident in the infirmary. However this time, he couldn't locate them there.

Snape reached into his robes, not saying a word, and brought out Harry's broken pair of glasses. He also took out his wand and waved at them, fixing them, before he handed them to Harry and turning to Madame Pomfrey.

"How is he?"

"Fine," Madame Pomfrey said. "He's just fine."

Snape nodded.

"It was lucky, I must say," the nurse continued. "That second potion that was splattered all over him really did more than I could have done for him by the time he arrived here."

Snape merely nodded again.

Harry looked around at all the adults around him and made to sit up, but the nurse pushed him back into his cot. Harry rolled his eyes. The woman and he were ever having a fight over his health whenever he wound up in her territory. He sighed and leaned back knowing it was useless to fight her. Instead he addressed the entire group.

"What happened?"

"Well," Snape said. "Longbottom once more caused an explosion during class. I must say I was surprised. I would have though with Granger next to him nothing could happen, but something did and the potion was not thrown towards them, but rather in your direction. Part of it landed into your own cauldron and the mixture of both potions caused a reaction. A strong healing potion, I myself have never seen the likeness of it, however, the potion turned into some sort of foam and covered the entire classroom including you which at the first touch healed you. I have taken samples of everything made and will be testing it. The healing potion could be a great addition to our side of the war."

Harry listened to all of this intently; surprised at everything he had missed during his first potions class.

"Was anyone else—"

"No," Madame Pomfrey answered before he could finish the question.

-

-

-

_September 4, 1996_

"I am so sorry, Harry!" Neville said the moment Harry stepped into the full common room.

Hermione ran to his side and gave him a scrutinizing gaze before throwing her arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I should have been paying attention to the potion, but I was talking to Ernie and Neville added the wrong ingredient, and then it all happened so fast. I'm so glad you're okay."

Harry patted her on the back and then pulled away. "It's alright. Dumbledore told me what happened."

Hermione nodded and sat down, pulling Harry to sit down as well. Ron who was already sitting gave Harry a grin and a pat on the back before he turned back to his game of chess with Seamus.

"Dumbledore only let us see you right after and then Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore himself pushed us out the door," Ron commented after having made his move.

"Considering everything else that's happened to you, this wasn't the worst and we're usually allowed to stay with you," Hermione said. She looked offended by the mere thought of her not being allowed to stay with him in the hospital wing.

"There is a lot more to it, Hermione. Not everything is the same, Voldemort is out there and everything is changing, everything and anything that happens to me has to be kept away from him at all costs, especially if something went completely wrong. At the time they didn't know if there was some sort of side effect. They couldn't have known with the two potions, for all that it matters, I could have lost my magic had there been a certain reaction with two of those ingredients, even if I did look okay."

Hermione grimaced. "You've changed, Harry," she said thoughtfully after a moment's pause during which Ron concentrated on his game. "Maybe it's all to do with Sirius' death, or maybe even something else, but you've changed."

Harry shrugged and stood up. "He's dead. Sirius is dead and it is all my fault. Voldemort is back and out in the open. I—when I started training for it, I began to see it as a more personal fight than ever because it is, and really I've begun to realize that I have to do this. I can't wait for someone else to. I have to do something about it all."

Hermione was giving him an odd look, but Harry said nothing. Instead he got up and left the common room altogether, walking out into the hallway. He didn't know where he wanted to go exactly, but he just didn't want to remain in the common room under Hermione's scrutinizing gaze. She had been looking at him oddly since he had entered the common room, and now he was wondering exactly why.

Harry didn't notice where he was going until he was in the dungeons and walking in the general direction of Snape's rooms. He didn't stop and instead continued on until he had reached the tapestry that led to the potions master's rooms. He pressed his hands at two specific points on the tapestry and then pushed the door open. He went into the sitting room and found his father there.

Snape was reading near the fireplace. He looked up and lifted his eyebrow at Harry when he spotted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," Harry said, truthfully.

Snape turned back to his books and then said, his eyes remaining of his book. "Could this have anything to do with your face?"

"What about it?" Harry asked.

"Go look at a mirror Po—Harry."

Harry nodded and walked to the bathroom. He looked into the mirror and gasped. It wasn't a big change, in fact, if he hadn't been looking for a change, he wouldn't have really found it. His face wasn't obviously different, it was just thinner, and his cheekbones were slightly more prominent, but it wasn't something that someone would notice right off the back.

"Why?" he asked when he once more entered the sitting room.

"You got hurt, that does lead to advanced changes, Harry. How is your magic?"

Harry hadn't done any magic all morning, so he brought out his wand at once and waved it at the book in Snape's hands. He meant only to levitate it, but it flew up to the ceiling. Harry barely stopped it from hitting it.

"Obviously that too has been affected."

They were having a relatively good conversation, Harry realized a moment later. They weren't at each others throats but they were also talking about nothing that was remotely important. Maybe Snape was in a good mood, and wasn't exactly bothered by his presence.

-

-

-

_September 5, 1996_

"Acid pops," said Harry, and the gargoyle leapt aside. He walked onto the spiral stone staircase and was carried in smooth circles up to the door. Once there, Harry knocked.

"Come in," said Dumbledore's voice.

"Good evening, sir," Harry said as he walked inside.

"Ah, good evening, Harry. Sit down." Dumbledore gave him a smile.

Harry looked down at the desk and found himself looking at Dumbledore's hand. His eyes widened.

"Professor!" He said at once. "Your hand—what happened to it?"

"It is a story for a later time, Harry, but I have taken the glamour off for the night. I wanted to show you how much I trust you, my boy. This has been like this for a while."

Harry nodded, and tried to look away from it, but couldn't. He couldn't even imagine what could have happened to Dumbledore's hand to blacken like that.

Harry chose that moment to look around. The circular office looked just as it always had on any of his past visits; the delicate silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, puffing smoke and giving off some sort of buzzing sound; portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses slept in their frames without a care in the world that this meeting between the current headmaster and a student could be in any way important. The last thing Harry took a notice in was Fawkes, who stood on his perch, watching Harry with bright interest. From everything around him, Harry realized that he had no idea whatsoever what Dumbledore would be planning to do with him that evening.

Dumbledore suddenly turned businesslike. "So, Harry," he said. "You have been wondering, I'm sure, what I had planned during these lessons, as we called them last time we spoke of them?"

"Yes, sir."

"I said I needed to tell you a lot more. It is time that you know what prompted Voldemort to try and kill you fifteen years ago. It is time you are given certain information."

Harry frowned in thought. He knew that he hadn't been told everything to do with the order at the end of the last term, but hadn't Dumbledore already told him about the prophecy and everything else? He didn't think he should accuse Dumbledore of lying to him, however, and with that thought in mind, said nothing.

"I told you everything I know, Harry," Dumbledore said as if he had read Harry's thoughts. "From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From here on in, Harry, I may be woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron."

"But you think you're right," said Harry, when Dumbledore nodded he added, "does what you're going to tell me have anything to do with the prophecy? Will it help me…survive?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, instead he got to his feet and walked around the desk. "It has a lot to do with it," he said as he opened the cabinet near the door, "and I certainly hope that it will help you to survive." Dumbledore returned to the desk and placed his penseive in front of Harry.

Harry couldn't help but remember his fourth year, or for that matter just the previous year. Invading both Dumbledore's and Snape's personal penseives had not been in his place, but he had done that regardless.

Harry shook himself and instead asked, "Where are we going, sir?"

"For a trip down Bob Ogden's memory lane," Dumbledore said as he pulled, from his pocket, a crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance. He pulled out his wand and tapped the bottle, the cork came off easily and Harry was once more reminded of Dumbledore's hand.

"Sir—how did you injure your hand?" Harry asked again.

"I must ask you once more Harry to not ask me that question. I will tell you, just not now. This is not the moment for that story. We have an appointment with Bob Ogden."

Harry nodded. He bent forward and plunged into the pensieve and the memories that awaited him.

-

-

-

Harry re-entered the Gryffindor common room two hours after curfew, though this had been the first time that he had any sort of proof that it had been because of Dumbledore that he was out late.

Ron and Hermione, as he had expected were waiting up for him, and Harry wondered if he should tell them about the prophecy. Dumbledore had told him that it would be alright for him to tell them, that his friends were trustworthy, and he knew he had to tell them something, and he did plan on sharing Voldemort's past, but the prophecy? Did he want his friends to know that there was a reason he had lost his parents, that Voldemort had followed the words of a prophecy?

Hermione questioned him at once, "What happened? What did he want to talk to you about?"

"Well," Harry said, sitting down. "He wanted to tell me more about Voldemort, to tell me about his past, I guess."

"Oh, really!" Hermione seemed to think it was a great idea. "What did he tell you?"

Harry laughed. "We went into the memory of this guy that worked in the ministry, a muggle-born. His name was Bob Ogden, anyway, he was in Little Hangleton looking for Morfin Gaunt to tell him that he was being summoned to the ministry for a trial because he had used magic on a muggle.

"See the Gaunts were the last ones alive from the Slytherin line, and they were proud and all that stuff at least Marvolo and Morfin were. Marvolo was Morfin's father. The person that really interested me though was Merope. She was Morfin's sister. She was practically a squib according to her family and they treated her terribly for it which is why she couldn't use her magic. After Ogden knocked on the door and was allowed in, the Gaunts all had a disagreement about Merope's love for Tom Riddle. Then after an attempt on Merope's life Ogden was thrown out. That was the end of the memory. By the end there, we got to see Tom Riddle."

"Voldemort's father, you mean?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Harry. "Dumbledore told me that Morfin and Marvolo were sent to Azkaban. He said it was during this time that Merope decided she needed to have Tom. He likes to think that she used some sort of love potion on him. Well, he got her pregnant, and then left her when she couldn't bear to keep him on the potion. Of course she must have died soon after giving birth because he hated his mother and was raised at an orphanage."

Hermione looked thoughtfully at Harry. "It's really interesting stuff. I wonder—" she trailed off.

"What?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed.

"Well," Hermione said with slight hesitation. "He's like Harry isn't he? At least I think Dumbledore may want you to understand that it isn't that he is evil because of the way he grew up, but the choices he made about everything. Last year you said you felt as if you were evil, I told you, you weren't, maybe this is Dumbledore's way of telling you that it is in everything that you do that he doesn't that you and he are different."

Harry said nothing to Hermione's outlook to things, instead he nodded silently. She had a point, but he knew that there was more to the memory than just showing Harry that he wasn't evil. Dumbledore after all had said that there was something about them that had to do with the prophecy.

-

-

-

_September 6, 1996_

"Enter," Severus called. He was sitting behind his desk a book open in front of him.

Draco Malfoy opened the door cautiously. "Are you busy, Severus?" He asked.

His godfather shook his head. "What can I help you with, Draco?" Severus asked. He marked the page of his book and closed it.

Draco snorted. "You know very well what you have to help me with, don't you. I rather get it over with quickly, not have to worry about it at all."

Severus noticed at once that Draco was not being completely truthful. He was good at hiding his feelings, a Malfoy trait, but Severus was better at noticing when someone was trying to hide something, and he could tell at once that Draco didn't want to kill Dumbledore.

"Tell me, Draco, do you really want to kill the headmaster?"

"What difference does that make?" Draco asked. "Even if I didn't want to, one of us would have to do it. If the dark lord didn't see to that, then it was my mother that did. She made you swear it under the unbreakable vow, didn't she?"

Severus nodded. "It does change things, however. Killing someone will haunt you for the rest of your life, Draco, you do not want that. I do not want that for you."

Draco snorted again, but said nothing.

There was a pause.

"Fine," Draco said. "I don't want to kill him. I want to get out of this entire business. I don't want to wind up in Azkaban like my father or dead for betraying him, and I see no way out."

Severus nodded thoughtfully and didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Draco, I am not sure if trusting you is the right thing to do," Severus said. "Your father has an uncanny ability to do the things that always benefit him and his family. I fear you share his selfishness this way."

"I am not my father," Draco said.

Severus lifted an eyebrow, and then, "But you are a Slytherin."

"So are you," Draco said at once.

Severus chuckled and didn't answer him. Instead he changed the subject. "I don't want you to do anything, Draco, I want you to ignore your task for as long as possible."

Draco shook his head. "My mother," he whispered.

"Is able to take care of herself," Severus finished for him, "and as to that father of yours, he is safer in Azkaban than anywhere else."

Draco glared at him. "How can you say that when you're the one that put him there!"

"I was not," Severus said. "Your father put himself there by his stupidity. He should not have approached me like that, I did not tell the Dark Lord, as much as you wish to see it that way, however, he did see most of that conversation through Nagini. Do not blame me where I did nothing."

Draco seemed to take all of it in. Severus watched the blond as he sat with a pensive look on his face, looking down at his hands. Suddenly he looked up.

"Are you a spy for the order?" He asked.

Severus didn't know how to answer that. To say yes and then get his cover blown was not what he wanted to do, but he needed Draco to trust him, and if telling Draco where his loyalties lied would help, then he would have to.

"I don't trust you enough, Draco, to tell you where my loyalties lie."

Draco nodded as if he had expected that. "Then I will continue with my own plans," he said.

-

-

-

_September 7, 1996_

His first lesson with his father was not something that Harry was looking forward to, especially since the moment he had mentioned that he had to go to remedial potions that night, Hermione had given him a suspicious glare, while Ron had all but wondered why he was even bothering before changing the subject to quidditch.

"Is it occlumency?" Hermione asked in a whisper while Ron rambled on about some new quidditch move he had heard about.

"No, Hermione, remedial potions," Harry said with a sigh. "I am not lying to you. I need to do this in order to remain in the class and become an auror."

Hermione gave a small huff and turned away, pulling out her transfiguration book.

Harry sighed. It would be hard, he had realized, to keep everything secret when Hermione was always after his case, but as soon as it was ten minutes to eight, Harry stood up, waved at his friends and left the common room.

When he entered Snape's rooms a moment later, Harry noticed at once that Snape was not in his quarters, but he had specifically told Harry to meet him there at eight through Remus. Harry sighed and walked to his room. He had kept a number of his things within this room, clothes that he knew he wouldn't use throughout winter, books from years previous, and small knick knacks that he had accumulated throughout the years. As he walked to his room, however, he spotted a book sitting on the coffee table. He picked up the rather worn object and tried to make out the title, but couldn't. He opened the book and found the title of the book.

_Advanced Potion-Making _

Harry flipped through a couple of pages and found that the entire book was scribbled on in small, cramped handwriting. Handwriting that looked almost familiar but that Harry just couldn't place. He stopped at the potion that he knew they would be brewing sometime in the next few weeks, the Draught of the Living Dead, and decided that he would try to ignore the fact that the entire page was covered in writing and try to go over the potion while he had the time, however, as he began to read he noticed at once that half of the things written on the margins were in fact alternate instructions. As he read through the instructions he found a number of alterations that for some reason Harry couldn't help but feel could help him with the potions. Trying to remember the ones that looked most important; **c_rush with flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better than cutting _and, _add clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir_**Harry closed the book. He made to put it back on the table, wondering if that had been Snape's potions book when it fell to the floor.

Harry bent down to pick it up, as he did, he saw something scribbled in the bottom of the back cover in the same handwriting.

**_This book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince_**

**Author's Note: **I always intended to keep this story very by the books...but still have my own plot. So bringing in the book was just something I had to do. So I'll say it now and I guess it should stand from here on out, I am borrowing a lot of material directly from the book, sometimes I paraphrase or I actually copy directly...but some scenes are directly from the book.

Any questions are always welcome. And reviews are always welcome. Updating friday.

Happy Holidays.

-Erika


	14. Quidditch Try Outs

**Author's Note: **I admit I completely forgot about the most famous sport in the wizarding world until I was writing this chapter and it hit me. lol...and so I finally wrote it. lol. Along with a few other things that just needed to be in this chapter.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

_Quidditch Try-Outs  
_

_September 28, 1996_

Harry had a perfect system going for him. While he hadn't had a meeting with Dumbledore since the first one at the beginning of September, he had had at least six lessons with his father which had actually taught him a lot more than he had ever wanted to know about the dark arts which had actually included the use of spells that Harry had not been in particular happy to explore. His apprenticeship with Remus while also time consuming was fun, and he had found that he enjoyed spending time with the werewolf whom nearly always had chocolate on his person and was always offering it to Harry, but Harry would never say that he only liked Remus because of his chocolate, but rather the knowledge on the history of the dark arts that Remus was always giving him in snippets throughout their grading of papers or lesson planning. However, with homework, and most of his nights spent with either Snape or Remus, Harry had found that he rarely had time to do anything else, and of course just as he realized that the quidditch team began to pester him about quidditch try outs and practices. It wasn't even just the quidditch team, mostly lead on by Ron, but other students that wished to be on the team. Harry was plain tired of it. He didn't even want to try and fit everything into the planner that Hermione had given him when she realized that he needed it and was willing to use it. He was grateful for the planner, and it was nearly never without him, but he hated the very idea of actually planning out what he was going to do about quidditch as much as he was itching to get onto a broom himself.

Harry woke up on a dark Thursday morning with the decision to catch up to his head of house and ask her when the pitch was open so he could conduct the try-outs. As he dressed and gathered the books he would need for the day and shrunk them with a spell Snape had taught him just the week before when Snape had handed a number of books to read which he hadn't even glanced at, Harry noticed that he was once more the first one awake, which had been happening a lot in the past few weeks.

When Harry stepped into the common room the first thing he noticed was that someone was fast asleep on the sofa and covered up with some sort of blue blanket. Not knowing who it was or why someone would fall asleep in the common room, Harry lifted the blanked slightly to see whoever it was and found himself looking at Imogen Copperfield.

"Imy," he whispered and shook her shoulder.

She shot up at once, alarmed and looked at Harry with wide eyes before she took in her surroundings and she sighed and settled herself against the sofa once more.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked softly. "Why are you down here?"

She blushed a deep crimson. "I don't know," she muttered after a pause. She shifted slightly and Harry noticed that she was nervously wringing her hands.

Harry sighed. "You don't have to tell me," Harry offered. "I just do not want you to be in any sort of trouble that I could help you with. You're like a little sister to me, and I really would like to help."

Imy hugged him and then ran towards the girls' staircase. She turned before going up the stairs. "I appreciate it, Harry, I really do, but I want to deal with this on my own."

Harry nodded. "I'll be here if you need me."

She grinned and then went up the stairs.

-

-

-

Harry caught up to his transfiguration professor after lunch, right before his free period, as he headed to Remus' classroom.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said the moment she saw him. "Anything I could help you with?"

Harry nodded, quickly. "I was wondering when the quidditch pitch would be available so I could hold try-outs, it's just everyone's been pestering me about it."

Professor McGonagall smiled at him. "I don't have the schedule on my person, obviously, but I am almost sure that it is free this Saturday if you wish to use it then. I will inform you of all the possible dates at dinner."

Harry nodded.

"I do believe you have somewhere to be, now, don't you, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "Yes. I'll see you later, Professor."

McGonagall nodded and waved him off.

Harry made his way to the third floor at an almost leisurely pace. Remus wouldn't mind him being late and he didn't exactly feel like dealing with all the third year Slytherins that day considering what had happened the week before when one had even thrown a quill at his forehead. Remus had of course put a stop to it, but none of them had any sort of respect for him.

When Harry entered the classroom Remus was giving the class a lecture. He gave Harry a nod and continued talking to the class. When Harry approached him he motioned to the desk where Harry found a number of essays. He sighed but decided that marking essays was much easier than to actually attempt to help the class. It was this, that he hated from the apprenticeship, that work he had to put into it, but truth be told he was gaining quite a bit of knowledge not only on teaching but on a lot of defensive tactics used in the past.

-

-

-

"Potter," Malfoy all but growled when Harry took his seat next to him.

Harry ignored Draco Malfoy, as he had tended to do in the past few weeks of Draco's ever going bad mood. At first he had attempted to be civil to the other boy, but really he thought it was too much work. So as he began pulling together the ingredients for their potion, remembering the book he had found in Snape's quarters and the extra instructions they had given him for this potion.

Malfoy begun to prepare the cauldron, and the moment he was done began to cut the valerian roots at a fast pace. Seeing as Malfoy was doing that, he pulled the sopophorous bean towards him and instead of cutting them, decided he would follow the instructions of the Half-Blood Prince. He looked up to see Malfoy put the roots in the cauldron and nodded to himself as he crushed the bean with the flat side of his silver dagger. He was amazed at the amount of juice that the shriveled bean exuded, but he quickly scooped it all and put it into the cauldron. To his surprise the potion turned the shade of lilac described in the book. This had never happened to him before, he'd never gotten the potion exactly like the book described it.

Malfoy made to put the stirring rod in, but Harry took it from him, and began to stir, seven counterclockwise, one clockwise. Malfoy tried to take the stirring rob from him at the clockwise stir, but Harry managed to hold him off, and then Malfoy gaped at the pale pink shade that the potion had turned.

"But—but it's…huh?" Malfoy stuttered looking from the potion to Harry who was still stirring.

Harry grinned.

"How are you doing that! You're nearly always terrible at potions and then today you just—" he trailed off with some sort of amazement.

"Time is up," Snape announced a moment later. "Bottle up your potions and bring them up to the desk."

Harry quickly bottled up his and Malfoy's potion and labeled it with his names. Malfoy had begun cleaning up, but Harry could tell that he was still just as curious as to how Harry had managed to make their potion perfect. When Harry stepped up to Snape's desk, the first one there seeing as the rest of the class was either cleaning up or attempting to make their potion better, when Harry passed Hermione's potion he was almost happy to note that his looked just a tad bit better.

Snape's eyebrows rose when he saw Harry's potion, and then he gave Harry a strange look. "How did you manage this?" He asked.

Harry didn't get a chance to answer seeing as Neville had walked their way to hand in his, Hermione's, and Ernie's potion.

"Potter, stay after class," Snape said instead while giving Harry a glare that Harry knew was for the most part fake.

When he returned to his and Malfoy's work station, Malfoy had finished cleaning up and was gathering his things.

"How did you do it?" Malfoy asked again.

"Just got lucky, I guess," Harry said.

Malfoy scoffed, just as they were dismissed. He walked out of the classroom with the rest of the class, but Harry remained behind. Hermione made to wait for him, but he waved her off. She frowned at him but said nothing as she left, even though Harry knew she would be pestering him later.

"Muffliato," Snape said once the door was closed and he motioned to Harry to come closer.

"What did you do to that potion, Harry?"

Harry didn't know if he should mention the book he had found in his father's quarters that had given him better instructions for the potion than the actual book had. He didn't want Snape to think that he had been looking through his things, which would be undoubtedly what Snape would think if the book was ever mentioned.

"It was an accident," Harry said at last. "I was cutting the sopophorous bean and my dagger sort of slipped and I sort of crushed it. It brought out more juice than I had expected and when I put it in, it was the right color."

"Lilac?" Snape asked. "Then, what did you do?"

"I stirred it like the book said."

Snape said nothing. "Go ahead, you're dismissed,"

Harry made to leave, but Snape suddenly stopped him and reached into his robes pocket. "Dumbledore gave me a note for you. He said you would be missing the next lesson with me in order for you to go to him."

Harry took the note that Snape was offering him. "Alright," he said.

-

-

-

_September 30, 1996_

As it turned out, the quidditch pitch was open that Saturday and once Ron had heard that Harry had been considering holding tryouts that day, Harry could not get out of it, even if he had had to meet with Dumbledore. Hermione had rolled her eyes at Ron, and Ginny who was sitting with them had been almost as excited as Ron was. Within minutes, the news had spread throughout the Gryffindor table, and everyone that was interested in joining the team or that was on the team had begun to talk about it.

On Saturday morning Harry woke up earlier than even his usual. For a moment he considered going back to sleep, but after a moment's hesitation he got out of bed and dressed before walking to the window next to his bed. He could see Hagrid's hut from his vantage point and felt a pang when he realized that he hadn't once gone to see Hagrid since the beginning of the school year. He would go today, he promised himself, after quidditch tryouts, but even he couldn't see that happening.

Half an hour later when Harry walked into the empty common room with one of the many books that Snape had given him to read, whose cover he had charmed to look as his Charms textbook, Harry wondered exactly why so many people have become interested in quidditch this year. He was slightly nervous at the thought of confronting this first hurdle of his captaincy. Instead of worrying about that, though, Harry tried to concentrate on his book.

Later that morning during breakfast when he expressed his fears to Hermione she laughed. "Come on, Harry," she said sounding impatient. "It's not exactly quidditch that's become popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."

Ron chocked on a piece of his toast at her words, and Harry clapped him on his back. Ron gave Harry a thankful look, but this did not stop him from shoveling more food into his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued, "Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'—well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He hated the new title, not that it was better than The-Boy-Who-Lived. What bothered him most about it was just how close it was to the truth and he hated thinking about the prophecy. While Harry frowned over the wizarding world's choice of titles for him, Hermione had continued and Harry only managed to hear the end of her tirade.

"…still see the marks on the back of you hand where that evil woman made you write with you own blood, but you stick to your story anyway, and it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either."

He had grown taller, but he would not tell Hermione that it was probably due to the spell that had been cast on him, and truthfully told Hermione did have a point that he was an interesting subject for other people to speculate if he was put like Hermione had just described him. He still didn't like it.

When the mail arrived, Hermione was dissuaded from continuing on with the topic of everyone's interest on Harry Potter. Instead Hermione had taken the daily prophet and begun to peruse it.

"Stan Shunpike's been arrested," Hermione said suddenly.

Harry frowned. "But he's…he can't be a death eater."

Hermione shrugged and burrowed her nose more in the paper while Harry thought about the conductor of the Knight Bus.

"Maybe he was under the imperius," Ron offered.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "He was arrested at a pub for talking about it, I doubt he would have done that if he had been under the imperius."

"Maybe he was trying to impress someone," Ron offered, "wasn't he the one that was trying to impress those veela by telling them that he was going to become the minister of magic."

Harry nodded. "Maybe," he relented.

Hermione folded up the paper and put it in her bag. "They're trying to look as if they're doing something," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe that's all, I mean to say everyone's terrified—the Patil twins' parents want them to go home. And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."

"What!" Ron said, goggling at Hermione. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!"

Hermione shook her head silently. "I don't think we have him all the time. Haven't you noticed, his chair is nearly always empty, and when he is here he looks tired as if he hasn't gotten any proper sleep in days."

Harry looked up at the staff table. Dumbledore's chair was indeed empty. Now Harry came to think of it, he hadn't seen Dumbledore since their private lesson.

"I think he's left the school to do something with the Order," Hermione said in a low voice. "I mean…it's all looking serious isn't it?"

Harry said nothing to Hermione's assessment, after all how could he not know it was serious when he had lost so many people to Voldemort's cause already, and when the eminent end of this war laid in his hands and his ability to kill his mom's murderer.

-

-

-

When Harry approached the quidditch pitch after breakfast, he was sure that more than half of Gryffindor had turned up, from the nervous looking first years, to the menacing looking seventh years, and those in the grades in between.

After some consideration of where to start, Harry decided on a basic test, separating them all into groups of tens and making them fly once around the pitch. This turned out to be a good decision. The first group consisted of first years and it was clear to him that they had never flown before. The second group was not much better seeing as it consisted of a number of girls who giggled and batted their eyelashes Harry's way and didn't even bother to get on a broomstick. Harry told them to leave almost at once. They followed his instruction without complaint, almost cheerfully. The third group had a pileup halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks, and fifth group was made up of Hufflepuffs, Harry didn't know if he could handle any more of the nonsense that came with being Harry Potter and the quidditch captain. Maybe he should just change his name to Snape and hope his appearance changed drastically and then he could be just another student, normal. He rolled his eyes at himself.

"If there's anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor," roared Harry, "leave now, please!"

After a pause a couple of Ravenclaws left the pitch, followed by one more Hufflepuff.

After two hours during which more chaos occurred and Harry heavily contemplated giving his captain badge to Ron, but finally after those two hours he had three chasers. Katie Bell who had been on the team since Harry had joined but who had insisted she try out in case someone else was better than her, Ginny Weasley who had outflown all the competition and made seventeen goals to boot and whom Harry had to admit was a better chaser than a seeker, and Demelza Robins, a new find that was particularly good at dodging bludgers. Complaining ensued within a moment of his final decision being announced, and Harry almost shouted himself hoarse as he bellowed at the rejected chasers to move and allow him to continue on with the tryouts.

The Beaters were easier to pick, mostly because only two of them showed even the small amount of ability at hitting the bludgers, and while neither had the old brilliance of Fred and George they did have good aim. By the time that the tryouts for the beaters was finished, Harry wanted nothing more than to just leave the quidditch pitch behind him, and to hide out if nowhere else, his father's quarters. What bothered him more than anything was the crowd that had congregated to watch the tryouts had grown bigger as the morning went on and now it was larger than ever. He glanced nervously at Ron and wondered just how well his friend would do with all the spectators.

Most of the applicants for keeper couldn't save more than two goals, and Harry was getting impatient until a fourth year Harry didn't recognize was up and he saved all but the last penalty and Harry had a feeling that Ron who was last to try out would not do as well, but to Harry's surprise Ron saved all of them, and he would continue to be the keeper, if only he could keep his temper during a game everything would work out.

There were a couple more complainers, some claiming that Harry had chosen his team because of his friendship with some of them, but that hadn't even entered his mind, even if he had wanted Ron to become the keeper.

"You did brilliant, Ron!" Someone said coming upon the new quidditch pitch.

Harry turned, expecting Hermione, but instead Lavender was behind him and she was grinning up at Ron who smiled back at her, but seemed to be looking for someone else in the crowd of people congratulating the newly formed quidditch team. Harry sighed as the tryouts had come to an end, and tried to listen to Ron describing in detail how he had saved every penalty, however, Harry wasn't in the mood to listen to Ron ramble on about quidditch, he was so tired of anything to do with quidditch that he would have rather been inside serving detention with filch, and that was saying something.

"Come on, you two," Hermione said, ignoring Ron. "You wanted to see Hagrid, right, Harry?"

Harry nodded and without one look back at the quidditch pitch walked determinedly after Hermione towards Hagrid's hut. Ron followed after them, after saying goodbye to Lavender and giving Hermione an odd look that Hermione didn't seem to notice. Harry noticed it, however and raised an eyebrow in Ron's direction, but other than frowning Ron said and did nothing to explain his odd behavior.

"Buckbeak," Harry breathed when he saw the familiar hippogriff tied in front of Hagrid's hut. He bowed to him and then moved closer, reaching for him. "You miss him, don't you," he whispered to the creature. "I do too, but you're happy here aren't you, with Hagrid."

He moved away from him when he heard the door to the hut open, and then Hagrid was looking towards them.

"Finally come to see me, eh," said the half-giant.

"I've been really busy, Hagrid, you know that. I did mean to come see you before Hogwarts started when I first arrived, but tons of things were going on, and my schedule needed to be fixed and everything else. And then classes have begun, and you don't even know half of what I'm doing now."

Hagrid snorted. "Too busy to even remember your old friend."

Harry sighed. "It isn't like that."

Hagrid said nothing.

"We've really missed you, Hagrid, now come on, tell us about what you're torturing your classes with."

Ron gave her a look.

Hagrid smiled a little at her and began talking about his latest magical creature. Harry grinned at him and soon they were inside Hagrid's hut and Harry was attempting to feed Fang his rock cake while sipping at his tea. It was good to have something remotely normal to fall back on after all the strange things that had gone on around him since the beginning of the summer, and yet as soon as that thought crossed his mind Harry frowned, but he couldn't tell them anything. He couldn't share his latest news that Snape was his father, he couldn't tell them that what the papers were saying was right and that he was "The Chosen One" and he couldn't very well inform them of what he was really doing with Snape, much less that Lucius was a spy for the order, or that he had a feeling there was much more to Dumbledore's blackened hand. He hadn't even told them that Dumbledore had shared that with him.

"Harry," he heard Hermione calling his name. "Harry? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, fine," Harry said, but Hermione frowned at him unconvincingly.

He smiled reassuringly at her, but knew that Hermione wouldn't buy it, but he couldn't tell her anything.

"So, what are those, Hagrid?" Harry asked instead pointing to a barrel full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing.

"Jus' giant grubs, they're um…to feed…Aragog…" He broke off into a sob.

Hermione patted his arm.

"He's…he's dying," Hagrid said, "and there's nothing I can do."

**Author's Note: **I did use a lot from the book for this chapter again. The quidditch try-outs really needed me to use a lot of that...and Harry tried the instruction of the half-blood prince...what else will he try? And then there is just so much more...lol...anyhow please review, they are always appreciated it...and I do want to hit at least the 100 mark with this chapter's reviews...I might just give all you wonderful reviewers a slight preview of what is to come...not necessarily only concerning next chapter...look at it as my Christmas cheer! And of course questions are always welcome.

Happy Holidays.

-Erika


	15. The Marauder's Map

**Author's Note: **Today I've done nothing but sit in bed with my lap top reading fanfics...so not a productive day at all...but blame it on the weather. It was a snow day here...and I did need the break...lol. Anyhow, enjoy the chapter.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

_The Marauder's Map  
_

_October 1, 1996_

The fire turned green just as Harry stepped out of the memory. Snape stepped out and stumbled into the chair closest to the fire. Harry rushed to his side at once and helped him sit down. Snape said nothing, but he grunted.

Dumbledore exited the penseive calmly and didn't seem to notice Snape until Harry alerted the headmaster by pulling at his robes' sleeve, and then Dumbledore was kneeling next to Snape in a more worried way than Harry had ever seen him before.

"Did you do it?" Dumbledore asked frantically. "Did you destroy it?"

Snape couldn't answer the questions as far as Harry could see and was instead grasping his chair's arm rest so hard his knuckles had turned white, and Harry knew at once that Snape was in pain though he would never show it to them.

"Professor, he needs to go to the hospital wing," Harry said immediately.

Dumbledore seemed to regain himself and he nodded walking to the fire. He pulled out a box of floo powder and threw some in before calling for the infirmary. Harry in the meanwhile was looking at Snape's too pale face and trying to determine just how bad Snape was.

Suddenly madam Pomfrey was there and she was taking Snape out of the headmaster's office. Harry made to follow but Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder.

"No one knows what he is to you. If anyone were to see you, what he has suffered tonight would have been in vain."

Harry nodded and turned back to Dumbledore. "Where was he?" Harry asked the moment he was once more facing the headmaster. "Was it a death eater meeting?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. Instead he changed the subject. "This memory was very important," Dumbledore said. "You noticed perhaps that Tom liked to keep mementos, something that reminded him of the things he did."

"The bullying, you mean?" Harry frowned distastefully.

"That and anything else that he did which he was proud of," Dumbledore said.

Harry barely nodded in a distracted haze.

"It is important, Harry, to also notice that even then he had no friends."

Harry nodded again.

"Many of his followers call themselves his most trusted, the ones that alone understand him, but they did not. Voldemort works alone. He trusts no one. None of them understand him. He's always been very self dependent."

Harry nodded again.

Dumbledore stood up. "Do you wish to see your father?" He asked as if finally noticing that Harry was distracted.

Harry didn't know if he should nod or not. Snape wouldn't want him to go see him, he decided at last. He shook his head at Dumbledore. "Somebody could see me. I'll go to my common room."

Dumbledore gave him a piecing stare but nodded and watched as Harry headed to the door, but Harry stopped once more as if he wanted to say something and then shook his head and walked out of the headmaster's office.

For a moment as he stood in front of the gargoyle he considered heading to the hospital wing anyway, but shaking the thought from his mind he walked towards the Gryffindor common room. He was worried, he would admit that, but he knew that he would have been worried about anyone that was hurt because of order business, if that was what it had been.

When he walked into the common room he found Hermione sitting by the fire with a large book open in front of her.

"Harry!" She exclaimed and closed her book without marking her place. "What did he show you tonight?" She asked without a moment's pause.

"First we saw Burke, you know from that shop in Knockturn Alley that I wound up in my first time using the floo, anyways we saw him talk about getting a great deal on Merope's necklace. Then Dumbledore took me into one of his own memories. It was of when Dumbledore went to tell Tom about the wizarding world at the orphanage he lived in," Harry said absentmindedly.

Hermione frowned and looked almost disappointed. "Nothing really interesting, then; nothing about the order," she said.

Harry barely nodded while his thoughts surrounded Snape in the infirmary.

Hermione seemed to notice that he wasn't really there and looked at him worriedly.

"Did something else happen?" She asked. "During the lessons, I mean."

Harry shook his head. "It's nothing," he said, and then added as an afterthought, "it just gave me a lot to think about."

"You aren't like him, Harry, far from it," Hermione said.

Harry nodded once again and began making his way to his dorm. He ignored Hermione's gaze as he walked up the stairs.

The first thing Harry did was go to his trunk so he could withdraw his two most priced possessions; his fath—James' cloak, and the marauders' map. He set the cloak down on top of his bed and picked up the unwritten piece of parchment which he tapped with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he muttered and watched as words began to form on the map. He opened it quickly and found without trouble, the Gryffindor tower. Hermione was still in the common room, but as far as he could see everyone else was asleep. He would just have to wait for Hermione to go to bed and then he could sneak down to see Snape. He could hardly believe that he was planning to sneak down to see Snape, even if the man was his father. It was just such an odd thing to even contemplate doing.

He sat down on his bed but left the map open as he pulled out the second book of the pile Snape had given him on the dark arts, which had actually turned out to be an interesting subject, even though he could see the bad side to the spells that were described in such gory detail within the books.

He had just gotten through twenty pages when he noticed that Hermione was no longer in the common room. He allowed himself a smile and then after putting his book back in his trunk and making sure that the cloak covered every part of him, Harry walked back into the common room and walked to the portrait of the fat lady, hoping that she wouldn't notice his leaving.

Once out in the corridor, he focused on the map once more, in search of any patrolling teachers. He found McGonagall entering her office, and Filch was in the dungeons. Mrs. Norris was near the Astronomy tower and it appeared that everything was clear for him to go down to the hospital wing. He checked there next and found only Snape in a cot and Madame Pomfrey nowhere to be seen.

As he shuffled his feet forward to the stairs, his eyes remained on the map, looking for anything that he could have possibly missed, and then he suddenly stopped.

On the map in the corridor he was standing, right by the stairs Harry Snape stood, instead of Harry Potter. As the shock wore off Harry became glad to have become aware of the fact that the map no longer regarded him as Harry Potter. He wondered why the sudden change but at the same time was glad that he was using the map rather than finding out the change with his friends. For a minute he imagined how Ron would take the news and shuddered. That was why he wasn't telling them, even though he knew that some time they would find out. Now, all he needed was a good excuse for not using the map with them ever again. Deciding to put that train of thought away, Harry continued down the stairs and to the hospital wing.

-

-

-

Snape was just as pale as when Harry had seen him last in the headmaster's office, and he was fast asleep. Harry moved as close as he dared to the cot where Snape slept and looked down at the Potions master, wondering just what had happened to him. It couldn't have been a meeting, but then again he didn't always feel his scar burn when Voldemort called his death eaters. But Dumbledore's reaction when Snape had stepped into the room and made it somewhat clear that Dumbledore had sent Snape on a mission, and the mission had become much more important to Dumbledore than Snape himself. Harry sighed and moved closer. What had been so important that it mattered more than a human being? Harry pulled out the nearest chair and settled down next to his father. His father. This man was his father and even though the information had been lost to them until quite recently, it didn't change the fact that Severus Snape was his father, and that Snape was lying in the hospital wing, hurt.

Harry turned away from Snape for a moment and instead surveyed the grounds that he could barely make out in the dark. He noticed a slight movement out there and stood up, pressing his face against the window, looking for any sign of anyone being outside. He saw her then, pacing right outside the castle as if she was waiting for someone. He couldn't tell who it was, so sat down and again and pulled the map out and looked for her on it. He noticed the dot on the grounds at once. **Nymphadora Tonks **it read, and then Harry noticed another dot walking towards her. **Remus Lupin. **

Harry once more put the map away, but did not go back to look out the window. Instead his eyes focused on his father who seemed to have a regained some of his color.

Harry shifted in his chair. It was awkward even with Snape unconscious. He stood up, figuring that he at least knew Snape was alright, not that he had expected otherwise, and he could head back up to bed, but before he could he heard the door open. He quickly threw the cloak over his head and somehow managed to not get seen by whoever it was that had entered the hospital wing.

"He's alright, isn't he?" Tonks said.

"Yes. Albus said he would be fine. He just needs rest."

Harry listened to them move about the room, and heard Tonks take the chair he had been previously using. He pressed himself against the wall, hoping that Remus wouldn't notice his presence, and then he watched as the two of them sat with Snape for a few minutes before Tonks stood up.

"I have to leave. Tell him he was foolish to do what he did."

Remus nodded.

"You're too brave, Severus," Remus said to the sleeping potions master. "You had only one task. One that none of us are even aware of, but look at what you did."

Harry frowned to himself, wondering when he would be able to leave. He hoped that Remus left soon, but as his luck would have it, ten minutes later when Remus stood up to leave, Snape groaned and opened his eyes, looking disoriented, and within a minute Remus was next to him.

"Severus," he said. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Snape said. "Could you pass me the green potion over on that table?"

Remus silently did as he was told and handed it to Snape, who downed it without a moment's pause.

"Nymphadora said to tell you that what you did was foolish."

Snape snorted and then added, "I will do anything it takes for the order."

"Even get yourself killed," Remus shot back.

Harry shifted slightly on the wall as Remus took a deep breath and waited for Snape to say something.

"It is the life of a spy."

Remus scoffed. "The life of a spy," He said laughing. "This had nothing to do with you being a spy, and you know it."

Snape nodded, but added, "but I will not hesitate to sacrifice myself if that is what it takes."

Remus left a few minutes later after his short conversation with Snape who seemed to be back to his normal self, and who, to Harry's annoyance had not spoken about what he had been doing when he got hurt, though now Harry was quite sure that it had something to do with the order considering all the hints that had been given.

"Come out, Potter," Snape said as soon as Remus had left and the fall of his footsteps could no longer be heard.

Harry sheepishly took his cloak off and walked closer to the bed. "Sorry," he muttered.

Snape found the entire thing amusing, for some reason as he motioned for Harry to sit. Harry sunk down into the chair.

"Albus said you were quite worried," Snape said.

"I just wanted to know you would be alright. Too many people have died already." He fought the urge to stand up and flee after saying that.

Snape lifted his left eyebrow and continued, "He also said you did not want to see me when he asked you. Yet here you are."

"I couldn't handle it later, not knowing…"

Snape interrupted him, "not knowing what I was doing. How I got hurt?"

"No—yes. I don't know, but I did need to know you were alright."

Snape snorted as if the very thought of Harry caring what happened to him was absurd—laughable.

Harry sighed and braced himself for the words he was going to say next.

"You're my father."

Snape's eyes widened in surprise and Harry laughed.

"I think neither of us have really realized it," Harry said after a pause.

Snape coughed.

Harry stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, then. It's late, I should head up to bed."

Snape said nothing as Harry once more covered himself with the cloak and he walked out of the room. Had Harry remained behind for just a moment longer he would have heard a sigh and Snape mutter something.

-

-

-

_October 2, 1996_

Harry woke up that morning to Ron jumping around the room on one foot while he clutched his other foot and cursed like a sailor. Seamus was already laughing from his own bed, but both Dean and Neville were still sleeping.

"He just came in, tip-toeing into the room," Seamus explained to Harry. "Wonder what he was up to last night. Anyhow, he was trying to enter unnoticed, but obviously he hit his big toe against the trunk. I told him to put a numbing charm on it, but I don't think he knows it and I can't quite get the wand movements right. I might have made it worse."

Harry laughed. Seamus was always doing that, even though he had gotten better than during their first year when he was blowing everything up, or at least putting fire to it.

Drawing his wand from under his pillow Harry waved it in the direction of Ron's feet and thought hard about the spell. He grinned when Ron stopped rubbing at his big toe. He hadn't been sure if he would get it right with his attempt at making the spell non verbal, but lately under the tutelage of his father, he had begun to try and only use non verbal spells.

"Thank you, Harry," Ron said. "You're going to have to teach me that one."

Harry grinned, getting up and out of bed. "Where were you?"

Ron flushed a deep red. "Lavender came to see me late last night," Ron said. "You weren't in here yourself. Did Dumbledore keep you up that long?"

Harry nodded for lack of something better to say as he begun to dress. Ron waited for him and once Harry had gathered his books and shrunk them, he and Ron made their way into the common room.

"I can't feel my toes," Ron said in complaint to Harry.

Harry laughed. "That was what the spell was for, Ron. Speaking of the spell, what were you and Lavender doing?"

Ron blushed again and muttered something that Harry didn't hear.

"What was that?"

"Snogging," Ron admitted embarrassed.

Harry laughed at his friend. "And?" he decided to ask the still red Ron.

"It was great," Ron said in a small voice.

Harry laughed again, remembering when he had been questioned by his friends the year previous after one of the DA meetings when he and Cho had kissed under the mistletoe. It had been embarrassing to discuss it with them, but Hermione had been helpful at least, even if Ron had teased him endlessly about it afterwards.

Hermione was in the common room waiting for them when they came down from their dorm. She put away her books before following them to the great hall for breakfast. None of them said anything, Ron still holding a slight tint of red on his cheeks, and Harry still trying to figure out what Snape had been doing to get him in the hospital wing. Hermione was still trying to absorb as much as she could from the books in her light-weight bag.

"Did you get a chance to study, Harry?" Hermione asked as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

Harry shrugged. "Not, really, but I think I'll do okay."

They were having a test in charms that day and Hermione as usual was taking the thing as if it was the hardest test she would ever have to take in her life, which meant that she had a book propped open next to her during breakfast and she kept giving it sidelong glances.

"You'll do great, you always do," Ron tried to assure her.

She glared at him. "Did you study, Ronald?" she asked, next, with pursed lips. "Harry has a reasonable excuse, but you do not."

Ron said nothing and instead shoveled food into his mouth and turned away.

Hermione ignored him and proceeded to question Harry on the wand movements of a particular charm to make illusions. Harry answered by moving his spoon in the appropriate wand movements which earner him a small smile from Hermione, before she buried her head into her book and ignored them for the rest of the meal. Had she not ignored them, she would have seen Lavender sit down next to Ron and practically drape herself over him, and instead not been surprised when she was getting up to go talk to the small Charms professor.

-

-

-

_October 15, 1996_

"How is the reading going, Harry?" Severus asked when Harry stepped into the sitting room of his quarters, where they usually held their lessons.

"I don't have as much as time as I usually have to read, but I did manage to finish one of them. I didn't really enjoy the in depth descriptions of each curse but I guess that was mostly part of it."

Severus nodded before he stood. "There have been no more drastic changes, I hope."

"None," Harry said with a shrug. "Should we have expected more?"

"I don't know, perhaps," Severus said. In fact, he had been almost expecting there to be something.

"What are we doing today?" Harry asked.

Severus sighed weary. "I thought I would take you on a field trip today," Severus said. "Mostly because I need to harvest a few potion ingredients that can only be harvested on the night before the full moon; we will be going into the forest for these. I have something else to teach you from within there that might come useful to you. Professor Dumbledore has decided it would be best to key you to the wards in case anything were to go wrong. It is a precaution and something that I hope you will not abuse for some childish prank."

Harry nodded readily.

"How far into the forest are we going?"

"Not too far in, but far enough that it will be dangerous"—he stopped then and looked at Harry as if he were taking him in for the first time—"you will have to listen to me, Harry. In fact, it would be best if you brought that delectable cloak of yours with you, and whatever other thing that will help us do this."

Harry got up.

"Meet me in the entrance hall in ten minutes."

Harry nodded and stood up. He stopped, however, before leaving the room. "There is a map," he said slowly as if he didn't want to really divulge the fact. "It shows where everyone is at any time in the castle and the grounds. Anything within the grounds of Hogwarts is on the map."

"A valuable map to have," Severus said, "and you bring the subject up, for what reason exactly?"

"Well, you see, my father—I mean, James—created the map with Remus, Sirius, and Peter," Harry continued.

Severus' eyebrows knitted in confusion. A map that showed where everyone was within Hogwarts that had been created by the marauders seemed almost absurd, but Harry continued and he listened.

"Fred and George found the map and Mr. Filch's office. They gave it to me during my third year, not knowing at the time that James had created it. I found that out later. Anyhow, I mention it now because I used it the other night and I forgot I wanted to tell you, but always my name was Harry Potter on the map, but the last time I used it, my name was Harry Snape."

"Harry Snape," Severus repeated.

"Just when you asked me to bring the cloak I was reminded of that. I'll bring the map as well, sir?"

Severus nodded.

A map! Was that how they had always managed to catch him unaware, always knowing where he was? Did the map have secret passages marked? Did it show every nook and cranny of Hogwarts? How had they done it? He knew Lupin had been good at charms which would have helped, and Potter and Black had always been good at Transfiguration which was probably something that had helped in the making of the map. But they would have needed potions, wouldn't they, and none of them had been terribly good at the subject. Lupin had been the worst—a better version of Longbottom in his days. Potter and Black had been merely adequate, and as for Pettigrew he had blown up more cauldrons than not. Unless someone had helped them without knowing it, only one person came to mind—Lily.

Gathering the few supplies that he would need, Severus put them into his robes pocket, and after making sure that his wand was within his robes' sleeve, he walked out of his quarters towards the entrance hall to meet Harry.

**Author's Note: **I hope those people that reviewed enjoyed the small previews I gave you...and this week just because it is the holidays and Christmas is not so far off I will allow you to ask me anything at all about this story...by asking me anything I mean anything that I would not normally answer...I may not have all the answers but I think anything that you ask me I will try my hardest to answer.

Anyhow, other questions are of course always welcome...as are reviews...

Happy Holidays.

-Erika


	16. Snakes

**Author's Note: **Seeing as I do have time to update today, I might as well. Enjoy the chapter!

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**_Chapter Sixteen_**

_Snakes  
_

_October 31, 1996_

The Halloween feast was as magnificent as it was possible for it to be, like every year. The first years had awed in amazement the moment it had begun. The decorations alone had set them off, followed afterwards by the piles of food which had far exceeded the welcoming feast.

Ron had already formed a large pile of food within his plate and was focused only on his plate than that of the people around him. His now girlfriend, Lavender, sat next to him and tried to ignore Ron's eating habits, but he didn't seem to notice as he was so focused on his food. Hermione, of course, had a book which she had propped open against a glass and seemed to be focusing on half the time while she attempted to converse with Harry and Imogen.

"Really, they aren't so bad," Imogen said. "I've met a couple of decent ones."

Harry laughed. "Alright, so some of them are alright," he said, daring himself to look towards the staff table.

"Draco Malfoy is okay," Imy said.

"This year," Harry agreed rather reluctantly.

"Malfoy is what?" Hermione asked as she cut into her chicken.

"Well…civil, I guess. He isn't that bad in potions, anyhow, not friendly or anything, just civil, though why still escapes me."

Hermione laughed, suddenly. "He's looking at you, you know—Malfoy. It's as if he knew we were talking about him."

Ginny who was sitting at Hermione's other side and had too noticed the stare. "Longing, it looks like, that stare," she said to Harry. "Maybe he's in love," she added in a sing song voice.

"Who's in love?" asked Ron in a moment when his mouth did not contain food.

"Just Draco," Imy said before anyone could stop her.

Ron spluttered. He coughed once. Twice. Lavender hit him on the back until he was once more breathing evenly.

"Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed loudly.

Harry dared to look back at Malfoy who frowned towards them and looked as if he wanted to get up and say something to Ron.

"And who is he in love with, then?" Ron asked, his voice lower this time.

"Harry, of course," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Then again, who isn't these days? He's the 'Chosen One' after all."

Harry laughed. "Ah, well, I guess he's a good looking chap," Harry said. "Not particularly my type."

Hermione laughed. "And who exactly is your type, Mr. Potter?"

"Tall red heads," Harry said.

Ron nearly had a coughing fit once more at hearing that.

Harry laughed again, until Ginny quite seriously asked, "So are you gay, Harry?"

"Not in the least. Did I mention that those tall red heads had to be men, by any chance?" Harry winked at her.

Ginny blushed deeply.

"Harry stop teasing the poor girl," Hermione said suddenly with a frown.

Harry nodded and continued eating his dinner. Imogen who had been quite silent during the entire conversation smiled shyly at Harry as if she wanted to ask something but was too embarrassed to.

-

-

-

That night Harry went to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, to the sounds of Neville's snoring, and Ron's muttering. As was a custom with him he had gone to bed late, though this time it had had nothing to do with any of his lessons or his apprenticeship but instead it had much to do with Imogen Copperfield and the question that she had finally dared ask.

They had been sitting in the common room after dinner, he, Hermione, Imogen, Ron, and Dean. Hermione had remained engrossed in her book while Ron and Dean battled it all out on a chess board which had left him and Imogen to stare into the fire in a comfortable silence.

"Harry," she had said suddenly. "I heard, well, I heard you can talk to snakes."

Harry nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, I was reading something the other day and it said it is the mark of a dark wizard, and that only they do it. Slytherin spoke to snakes, didn't he, and Vol—He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named speaks to snakes."

"Why do you want to know about this, Imogen?" Harry asked gently. There had to be a reason for her curiosity. She wasn't like Hermione, she wasn't asking just for knowledge's sake.

She blushed. "Can I—can I tell you after, somewhere more private?" She asked looking around.

Harry who had only ever explained what had happened during the night Voldemort attacked him to Ron and Hermione nodded, standing. "Come on, I'll take you up to my dorm," he told her. "We won't be overheard there."

She nodded readily and followed him up the stairs to his dorm room.

"I heard the boys can't come up to the girl's dorms," she said as they walked up the stairs.

Harry nodded. "Girls are more trusted it seems," he said.

They remained silent until they were in his dorm and then Harry led her towards his bed. She sat down and watched him. He began to pace. "Muffliato," he said. It was a spell that Snape had taught him, which was according to him better than a silencing spell.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Just a spell so that no one can hear us. I could have done it in the common room, but I didn't want to risk it."

She nodded, but said nothing.

"When Voldemort attacked my parents and I, he did not think about the fact that love is a powerful thing," Harry told her. "When he tried to kill me and my mom wouldn't let him kill me without killing her first she sacrificed herself for me. This is ancient magic that I'm sure she herself didn't even know she was evoking. Anyhow, this allowed something like a shield to remain behind around me. When the killing curse killed me, it was her shield that saved me. Her shield that made his spell bounce off, but it was a killing curse and it did destroy him, but it was I think only part of it that rebounded on him. When my scar was formed somehow with all the magical force in the house some of his powers were passed on to me. That is how I can talk to snakes."

Imogen frowned and muttered something inaudibly.

"What was that?" Harry asked, coming to stand in front of her.

"I can speak to snakes," she said softly. "I've always been able to. I knew I could when I was younger. I always liked them, too. Am I dark? You—you can't be, obviously, I mean it wasn't always your talent."

Harry sighed and sank down next to her. "I don't know that," he told her. "I don't know that I wasn't just born with it. What I just told you is a theory, something that Dumbledore imagined was what happened, but I've been able to do it since I was one, then, if that is the case. You are not dark, because you have a power that is considered dark."

Harry hadn't noticed until that moment but Imogen was crying. He pulled her into his arms instantly. "Anyone can do evil," he told her softly in almost a whisper. "Anyone could easily do evil with a spell that isn't necessarily considered dark, just as good can come from spells considered dark."

Imogen frowned at him as he said that. "How?"

"There are spells that were once considered to be good, actually, every spell created, or at least most spells had a good side to them, I guess you could say, every spell is meant to do something when someone creates it. The killing curse, for instance was a healing spell once."

"Really?" Imogen said in wonder.

"Yes," Harry said. "I cannot tell you the exact details because I haven't read much on it yet but it was designed that way and for a short time used as a healing spell until someone died from it."

There was a pause.

"So then, any spell today could be used as the dark arts?" she asked.

"Take a simple levitation spell," Harry said. "If you were to lift someone high enough and drop them, wouldn't the result be the same as that of the killing curse?"

Imogen nodded deep in thought. "Then, I'm not dark," she said. "I'm not going to turn bad?"

"No," Harry said reassuringly. "Is this what was bothering you that other day?"

She nodded slowly. "There was a snake on the windowsill. I couldn't stay up there. It was talking to me."

Harry frowned. "A snake, in the dorm?"

"Is that unusual?" she asked.

"Not unless it's someone's pet, but I don't think anyone has one in Gryffindor."

She bit her lip in a very Hermionelike fashion.

"You'll tell me the next time there is a snake, won't you, Imy?"

She nodded. "I should go. Thank you, Harry. You're like a big brother. I really appreciate it. I miss home sometimes and you're a comfort to have around."

Harry smiled at her slightly and pulled her into a short hug. Harry canceled the Muffliato spell as she began walking to the door, but she stopped.

"Do you like snakes, Harry?" she asked.

"They're beautiful animals," he said almost silently. "They are very elegant and graceful."

She grinned again and then walked out of the dorm.

Harry sighed as she left. There was another parselmouth at Hogwarts, and she was a Gryffindor first year, and a muggle-born.

-

-

-

Severus pushed the oak wood door open and entered the dark room only lighted by the fire in the corner of the room, though no one stood by the hearth, save for the large snake that seemed to be enjoying the heat.

"Ah, finally here," Severus," Voldemort said.

"I am sorry my lord, but there was a staff meeting I could not leave."

Voldemort waved him off as it if were no matter. As Severus moved to his place he did not show his surprise to the others around him. Voldemort was in some sort of good mood. Bellatrix sneered at him as he walked by her. He gave her a smirk.

"Today is a night of celebration," Voldemort said. "Tonight is a sacred night. All hallows eve. Tonight we complete a ritual that was started many years ago."

Severus' eyes widened at the implication of what this could mean. He hadn't expected to be called that night considering that Voldemort rarely ever wanted to see anyone on Halloween due to the fact that he had attacked the Potters on a Halloween night, but now he had some sort of plan, some sort of ritual that he wanted to complete.

Severus heard footsteps suddenly, and moaning. Then there was a bang and a whimper. The door was thrown open and a woman that looked as if once she had been beautiful fell to the floor. Rebastian Lestrange glared at her, as he took her arm and brought her farther into the room. She was tall and thin, too thin in his opinion, with too pale skin, bags under her eyes, and a dark shadow within her eyes that seemed to just tell everyone that saw her that she had seen too much over the years.

"I'm very grateful you could join us," Voldemort said almost amiably. She glared at him and ripped herself out of Rebastian's hold, walking towards the fire and towards the snake whom she sat next to and allowed to coil around her.

Anything like this woman had never been seen at a death eater meeting and Severus couldn't keep his eyes from straying towards her. It was her peculiarity that interested him more than anything.

"This, my loyal followers, is Faye," Voldemort said. "She has been a prisoner for the past sixteen years, held at an unclosed location and kept by a house elf. She is part of the ritual."

Severus looked towards the woman again and noticed at once that she was whispering to Nagini as if the snake could understand her, and then he heard the distinct sounds of the hissing. She was a parselmouth! But there were so few in the world, and here was a woman, a captive of Voldemort's who seemed to have the ability.

"She has been a valuable prisoner to have, a mudblood, but nevertheless a very powerful prisoner."

"What—what will the ritual entail?" the silent voice of one of the death eaters asked.

Voldemort smirked evilly and began describing exactly what he meant to do, and even though her death was being discussed, Faye did and said nothing to tell them that she knew that she was going to become a blood sacrifice for Voldemort's spell. She continued on, instead, talking calmly to the snake.

Severus listened intently, trying to find any clue that would tell him exactly what Voldemort was going to use his ritual for, but Voldemort did not seem to want them to know anything at all about his ritual for he didn't give them more than what they needed.

-

-

-

_November 2, 1996_

Draco looked at the potion bottle sitting in front of him. It was a potion in the form of a perfume. He had ordered it to be sent to him that way just in case, and now he had it. Poison that he could use to kill Albus Dumbledore, even though he didn't in particular want to kill the headmaster of Hogwarts. On the contrary, he wanted instead to help him, but his mother had made things difficult, involving Severus Snape had to be the biggest mistake she had ever made, and that included trying to pair him off with Pansy Parkinson whom he could spot sitting on the lap of Blaise Zabini in the darkest corner of the common room.

"Hey, Draco," a girlish voice said, coming to sit down next to him.

"Hello," he muttered without looking at the girl that had sat down next to him.

"Do you want a cookie?" she asked. "Mum's just sent me her homemade double chocolate chip cookies, but she sent me a bunch. I don't think I'll finish them all."

"Alright," Draco relented. She offered him a small container full off cookies and allowed him to take one.

She watched him as he bit into it.

"This is really good," Draco said once he had finished his first bite.

The first year grinned and then stood up. "See you later, Draco," she said and walked away.

Draco sighed deeply as he finished off the cookie, and continued to stare at the bottle. He didn't have to become a killer. Snape didn't want that, hadn't he said he didn't want that, but then that meant that Snape would be the one killing Dumbledore. Somehow, Dumbledore was going to die. There was nothing anyone could do about it, it was either Dumbledore or Snape and Snape wouldn't die to save Dumbledore. He was the one that had sent his father to jail, regardless of anything the man wanted to tell him, and Snape probably even wanted Dumbledore to die.

He had to at least make attempts on the headmaster's life, if nothing else, but Dumbledore was rarely ever alone or at Hogwarts for that matter.

He stood up gently and pulled the potion bottle into his robes pocket before making his way, with a sigh towards his godfather's office. He was sure about his loyalties, and he was willing to take a chance. He was willing to share that piece of information with the potions master in order for him to share his loyalties with him. They needed to trust each other.

When Draco knocked on the door he did not expect it to be opened at once and for Snape to look out as if he had been expecting someone.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said, motioning for him to enter while looking around the hallway as Draco stepped inside. "What can I do for you?"

Draco reached into his robes pocket and placed the potion bottle on the desk.

"What does that mean?" Snape asked, walking around the desk.

"Just that poison can be brought into the school for all those protective wards that are supposed to be around the place," Draco answered. "I don't want to use it. I don't even want to try it, but I have to look as if I am trying and ordering poison is something that they would have expected from me."

Snape folded his hands in front of him as he looked at him, and Draco had the impression that Snape didn't really have any idea how to go about their ordeal.

"My loyalies lie with Dumbledore and the order," Draco said. "I do not want to be my father, or to be on the dark lord's side, even if this side does lose, I will remain on this side."

Snape gave him a calculating look and opened his mouth to speak when the door was pushed open and Harry Potter rushed in, looking paler than usual his eyes wide. He didn't even seem to notice that Draco was in the room before he spoke.

"Remus sent me to get you, he said it was important, that we should head to headquarters right now. He didn't give me much detail, all he said was that Tonks just sent her patronus and that it was best we go."

Snape looked from Potter to Draco before answering. "And is Dumbledore aware of the fact that you are joining us tonight?'

Potter nodded.

"Alright, then, Potter, get whatever it is you need and hurry."

Potter nodded once more, and for the first time looked towards Draco. He frowned at him and then rushed back out of the office, closing the door quickly behind him.

"Does Potter know you're a death eater?" Draco thought to ask the moment the door had closed. "That you aren't so trustworthy?"

Snape didn't look as if he knew what to say to that, so instead he didn't answer. "Draco, I do believe this conversation must be cut short if there are more important things to be done. However, I would like to continue it."

Draco sighed, but walked out the office regardless, and nearly ran into Potter on the way out.

"Alright, ready," he heard Harry say as the door closed behind him. He really didn't like Harry Potter sometimes.

-

-

-

Harry sat between Snape and Remus at the table. Mrs. Weasley kept giving him worried glances. She had been very objective to his even being in the house and out of Hogwarts, but after Dumbledore had arrived he had put a stop to it, by first pointing out that it was Harry's house, and that Harry had a right to be there, and then telling them that Harry was allowed to make his own decisions about his involvement with the order, not to mention that he did better when knowledge was given to him, if they didn't remember the previous year. Mrs. Weasley hadn't liked it, but in the end she had given up, which was all the better for the rest of them, most of which hadn't put any opposition. After all he was Harry Potter.

"Alright, what is this about," a woman Harry had never seen before said.

Tonks stood up. "This," she announced, "is about an Azkaban prisoner."

Emmeline Vance a couple of seats away frowned. "An Azkaban prisoner? I am here because of some Azkaban prisoner? What importance does this have with anything?"

Harry too was wondering that exact same thing, but he noticed that his father seemed to know what Tonks was talking about and he didn't very much like where it was going. Dumbledore, too, was frowning.

"The dementors no longer continue to follow orders from the ministry. The time they spend in Azkaban is ordered by Voldemort, or is only done because they are most familiar with the place. As such, Aurors will do routine patrols. Today was my day to patrol, and I was not looking forward to it. I hate going there to look after the prisoners, however, something interesting happened during my patrol. I came upon a death eater."

"Because there are so few around there," Fred Weasley said sarcastically sharing a grin with his twin.

Bill hit them both on the back of the head and their mother gave him an approving nod.

Tonks smiled in their direction, before continuing. "It was not a surprise to run into this particular death eater, but it was surprising to actually see him. I did not expect him to act as if nothing was wrong. He was completely lucid, just sitting there as if he deserved to be there, so of course he caught my attention, but before I could approach him an owl arrived for me, detailing some other business. I was distracted. When I turned back to see him, however, another death eater had joined him. He was teasing him, he was calling him a traitor. I stayed and listened.

"This death eater, he one that had caught my attention did nothing to dissuade the other, and then once he had left he just remained there, just as unbothered, so I thought to tell someone, and the first person that came to mind was Severus, but as I could not be sure to reach him, I sent a my patronus to Remus.

"Remus was not very much help, so I decided to talk to him, and I did, and I discovered quite a bit about him. I never would have thought that I would be the one to argue his case in front of all of you, maybe not all of you,"—here she gave Remus and Snape a long look—"but I do believe he has either changed his beliefs, or he's never really been one of them. Anyway, I couldn't just leave him there, knowing this. And it isn't like anyone will miss him there, or if anyone from the ministry will notice until tomorrow. So—I um took him out. He's not here, obviously, but he's tied up in my apartment.

"What this meeting is about really, is about letting me bring him here for questioning or something."

Tonks stopped and looked around the room.

"Who is this death eater, Nymphadora?" Moody asked. He was giving her a doubtful look.

"I don't want anyone to just decide because of his name," she said, looking around.

"What is his name, Tonks?" This time it was Mr. Weasley who asked.

Tonks looked at him and then around the table. Everyone was waiting. Harry was almost sure he knew who Tonks was talking about. Snape and Remus, both on either side of him also seemed to know though they seemed rather annoyed at the fact. Dumbledore looked as calm as ever. Some of the rest looked curious, others disappointed, and a few even annoyed. Dumbledore, however, was the only one taking the news as calmly as if Tonks were just talking about the weather.

"Fine, I'll tell you," said Tonks after a moment's pause. "But if I do you must all agree to let him come here."

It took another pause for everyone to nod, and then Tonks opened her mouth. "Lucius Malfoy."

**Author's Note: **So there you go...Lucius is out of Azkaban...Voldemort is up to something...and today is Christmas Eve! So have a great Christmas (to the people that do in fact celebrate Christmas) Happy Holidays to the rest of you! Questions and comments are always welcome. Please review! Anyhow, I'll probably update next week sometime...maybe on New Year's Eve...who knows...

Happy Holidays.

-Erika


	17. Lucius Malfoy

**Author's Note: **Thanks everyone for all the reviews...you guys are great! Anyhow, due to some suggestions and the fact that I have been meaning to get one...I do have a beta now and this is the first chapter that she has edited for me. So, hopefully there aren't any little mistakes that both of us have missed, so enjoy!

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

_Lucius Malfoy  
_

_November 2, 1996_

Lucius Malfoy opened his eyes when he felt someone looking at him. Rookwood was back and leaning casually against a wall, his arms crossed.

"What is it, Rookwood?" Lucius asked, weary.

"Couldn't I just come here for the company, Malfoy?"

Lucius glared at him. "You and I both know you are not here to enjoy the company."

Rookwood laughed – a humorless laugh. "Ah, Lucius, Lucius, Lucius," Rookwood said. He cocked his head to the side. "I've been wondering now for a while; why her, why that Mudblood?"

Lucius didn't answer, but to himself he whispered internally, _'because she understood me'._

"I know you won't tell me, dear Lucius," Rookwood said. His voice was soft, a whisper. "Ah, well. It doesn't matter, does it? She's dead, and your son will be joining her, won't he, Lucius? For all your mistakes." Rookwood laughed.

"Get out," Lucius whispered.

Rookwood smirked. "I'm not exactly ready to leave."

Lucius turned away, attempting to ignore the other man. Rookwood, however, would not be denied his entertainment, and he moved to stand within Lucius' range of vision. Lucius gave a groan, but made no move to get rid of the other man.

"She was a pretty little thing, I will admit that," Rookwood said, "Not worth it, though, eh Lucius? I imagine she was good in bed, otherwise why would you have kept her around for as long as you did?"

Lucius growled deep in his throat.

Rookwood was not bothered by any of it. "Narcissa is not aware of all of this, of course. How could she be? I could tell her. Then again, that would be betrayal of this new friendship, but you betrayed the Dark Lord."

Lucius made no motion to show he was even listening anymore.

"Oh, you're no fun, Lucy," Rookwood said and moved across the cell "Fine, I'll leave you."

Lucius did not sigh in relief when Rookwood left, but instead remained on the floor unmovin g until Rookwood was long gone, and then he slowly picked himself up. He didn't notice the figure approaching him at first, until it was standing right behind him.

"Lucius Malfoy," she said. "Could we talk?"

Lucius turned to look at her. He took in her pink spiked hair and height before once more turning away and walking to the nearest wall.

"Go on, talk," Lucius said.

She shifted from foot to foot. "You – you don't have to answer me, I'm just curious. I know I shouldn't even be talking to you, but you interest me, Lucius Malfoy, and I couldn't help but overhear earlier. Are you – did you really –", she took a deep breath, "betray Voldemort? Is that – is that the reason you're here?"

Lucius didn't answer.

She waited. "I said you didn't have to answer. I guess I'll go now."

"Yes," Lucius said at her back. "Yes."

Tonks stood still. She turned around. "Yes, you betrayed him?"

"Yes," Lucius repeated.

Tonks walked towards him. "I know you were found here. Did he put you here?"

"Yes."

Tonks looked around quickly as if trying to decide something, then shouted out a spell. A wolf-like figure appeared before her and she quickly whispered something to it before sending her Patronus off.

"Come here," she instructed Lucius. He stepped forward and she tapped him on the head, turning Lucius practically invisible. "I'm trusting you, Malfoy," she said, placing another spell on him. "I hope you recognize the spell I just used on you. Just know that I will not hesitate to activate it, even if you did not betray him. This is illegal, what I am doing now, but I think it will be worth it." With that said, she took him by the arm and Apparated to her apartment.

-

-

-

Whispers erupted around the table.

"Lucius Malfoy," Fred Weasley said in an astonished voice.

Other voices followed his example.

"No, can't be, not that Death Eater scum."

"It has to be a trick – "

" – impossible."

" – he betrayed Voldemort?"

Tonks made everything come to a stop by speaking. "I am not sure that he has truly betrayed Voldemort, but there was something that I saw. My mother always said I was a good judge of character; I want to say that I am right about Malfoy. His circumstances of being found in Azkaban have not been discussed. Everything that has happened around him has been suspicious; if anything, he must be on the bad side of Voldemort."

No one looked convinced, as far as Harry could tell from his spot between his father and Remus. He had sat still and quiet while the rest of them had speculated how wrong Tonks had been to go ahead and do such a thing. He looked towards Remus and noticed that the Lycanthrope was giving the Weasley twins warning glances; he wasn't the only one. Alastor Moody was standing behind them and seemed ready to stop them from doing something drastic. Harry looked at Snape. He was glaring a hole into the wall in front of him and seemed to be ignoring everyone around him as if he was bored. Harry looked next towards the head o f the table where Dumbledore sat, staring at his hands with a calm expression across his face. Harry couldn't help but feel as if Dumbledore had expected someone to bring up Lucius and he was just getting the reaction that he had expected from the beginning.

Talk continued on. Harry could hardly even make out half the voices around him. Everyone was muddled up, but they were all talking about the same thing. They were all in agreement with each other that Lucius Malfoy could not possibly be on their side without some sort of good reason that only benefited him.

Harry hadn't looked at Dumbledore again after his first glance, so when Dumbledore stood up, Ha rry missed it. When Dumbledore spoke, however, everyone stopped and turned to look at him. Harry looked towards the Headmaster and found his eyes seeking the man's hand, but found it whole and completely different from the hand he had seen not that long before.

"Lucius Malfoy," he announced, "hates Voldemort as much as the rest of us."

"What?"

"No, that can't be."

Dumbledore allowed a couple of them to say something to the people around them before he once more spoke, directing it to Tonks. "Bring Lucius here, Tonks," he said. He quickly wrote something down on a piece of parchment he had extracted from a pocket from his robes, and handed it to her before turning to Kingsley. "Go to the Ministry and owl the Minister. Inform him that Lucius Malfoy has gone missing from Azkaban, but convince him to keep this secret in any way that you can." With that said, Dumbledore looked towards Snape. They shared some sort of silent conversation and Snape nodded. Standing quickly, he left the room.

"I won't stand for this, Albus!" Molly Weasley said. "He is a Death Eater, and that man will not set a foot in this house!"

Albus looked at the Weasley matriarch calmly. "Molly, there are things you don't know about this entire matter."

"Well then, explain them to us, Albus," Emmeline Vance said.

"I imagine everything will be explained as soon as Tonks brings Lucius," said Dumbledore, starting to get up. "You are all welcome to remain here, or leave if you do not want to see Lucius Malfoy. I know he has caused many of you pain with everything he has done, but there are always two sides to the spectrum."

A couple of the Order members still looked unsure, but said nothing and remained seated. Fred and George Weasley looked excited. Their elder brother stood and walked across the room, but he too made no move to leave. Arthur Weasley however, walked pu rposely out of the room. His wife followed a moment later. A few others stood up and left, three of them excused themselves at having limited time to remain at the meeting. However, most of them remained behind.

"Shouldn't Potter be at Hogwarts?" Alastor Moody asked suddenly as if he had just then noticed Harry.

"I have given Harry permission to come to certain meetings. This, for instance, has a lot to do with him," Dumbledore said. He was twirling his wand in his fingers.

Harry couldn't handle just sitting at the table anymore, and stood up, walking to the only window in the room. He looked outside and noticed just how dark it had gotten. The moon was almost n on-existent in the sky, being just a thin crescent-shaped line. He allowed himself to remain by the window while they waited for the elder Malfoy. Harry could hear the whispers from behind him, all of them concerning Lucius Malfoy, all speculative to what Malfoy could be plotting by pretending to have betrayed Voldemort.

A couple towards the end of the table were talking not about Lucius, but Tonks and chuckling about how only she would be willing to bring back a Death Eater because of her soft heart. Harry turned his attention to the other side of the room after hearing that and noticed at once that Dumbledore was in a deep conversation with Remus, but that no one else was aware of it. Throughout the kitchen, private conversations went on.

When the door opened they all turned to look towards it as if waiting for Lucius Malfoy to just st roll right in, but instead it was Snape, who carried some sort of wooden box which he handed to Dumbledore quickly. Dumbledore nodded and put it away without a word. Most people in the room had not noticed the exchange, and Harry wouldn't have as well had it not been for the fact that his eyes nearly always strayed towards Dumbledore's hands.

-

-

-

He looked very different from the man Harry had seen in his vision just two months previous . Harry was surprised to notice that just two month in Azkaban, if it had even been that long, had changed Lucius so decidedly. Lucius wasn't his usual glossy self. He didn't wear the extravagant robes that were a custom for him, but instead he wore a pair of faded, worn, and dirty robes. His hair didn't have its usual sheen, instead it was lank, matted with dirt, and tangled. His face was most changed; his skin was paler than was normal, containing almost a gray tint to it. Under his eyes one would find bags, and stubble covered his chin and made him look older than he really was. But in his eyes – he held pain.

When Lucius stepped into the kitchen with Tonks following him, everyone looked towards him and stared at his form as he made his way inside.

"Good evening, everyone," Lucius said the moment he was standing by Dumbledore.

No one said anything to return his greeting.

Lucius looked around the room with an unreadable expression then he sat down on the nearest empty chair. He put his hands together on the table as if to show that he wasn't up to anything, and then he turned to Dumbledore as if speaking to an old friend. "I didn't believe anything would come of this time, all things considered. How is Draco?"

"As well as the boy can be, Lucius. What else did you expect after things went the way they did? This was as unexpected to me as it w as to you, believe me," Dumbledore said passively.

For some reason, the easy flow of conversation seemed to infuriate the other Order members, for they glared towards Lucius and Dumbledore, though they said nothing. Harry almost found it amusing, but when Lucius had exhausted whatever small talk he had been making with Dumbledore, he turned and almost immediately found him as if he had been seeking him out.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Lucius said in his drawling voice before he chuckled. "How I've been longing to see you."

Harry looked away from the elder Malfoy's intense stare and looked instead towards the other side of the room where he found Snape's eyes on him. He looked away from the Potions M aster's gaze as well and instead kept his eyes trained on the table.

"Has Malfoy always been on such good terms with you, Albus?" asked a tall man Harry didn't recognize from somewhere near the middle of the table.

There was grumbling coming from around them and Harry felt as if everything was going to go bad if Lucius Malfoy's spying wasn't explained to them soon, and even then he doubted many would accept Malfoy. Half of them didn't even accept Snape and he had been spying for them for years with their knowledge.

"Lucius Malfoy," Dumbledore said cutting through all the noise, "has been a spy for the Order for many years now. Most of the information we have gained has been because of Lucius, not Severus. In fact, due to Lucius' closer role within the Death Eaters, we were able to figure out where Voldemort was after last year. However, his role has been compromised and Lucius was sent to Azkaban."

Most of the Order looked around angrily.

"And you thought this would be something that the rest of us did not need to know, did you?" Moody asked gruffly as if he couldn't believe it.

Arguments began almost at once. It took a few moments before Dumbledore could stop the conversations. Afterwards, he began to explain the purpose of Lucius Malfoy.

-

-

-

Harry stepped out of the fire and spotted it at once. The book looked as beaten up and worn as it had the first time he had seen it and, like that first time, he was drawn towards the book with its written-on-margins; the property of the Half-Blood Prince. He knew it was Snape's, considering that the book was in Snape's quarters, but he wasn't entirely sure that the stuff written within was actually Snape's. He would never have pegged Snape as the kind of person to write all over a book, or for that matter, create spells. He seemed to treasure his books, and clearly this book had not been well taken care of. Had it been Snape's, it would have been well taken care of.

Harry opened the book at random and found himself looking at the potion he had completed just the week before with Draco Malfoy. He flipped to the next page and sighed; he didn't want a Love Potion. He flipped a few more pages, looking for something that would catch his eye and stopped when he noticed a spell, squished in the corner of a yellowing piece of parchment. He could just make out the word '**Sectumsempra'**.It was a non-verbal spell, he noted, from the abbreviation in the parenthesis. He looked towards the words written underneath the spell, hoping that he had put some sort of explanation under it. Instead, all he found was '**for enemies'**.

Harry closed the book slowly, keeping the spell in the back of his mind to maybe use at a later time against a Death Eater, if no one else. He put the book back where he had found it and sighed, closing his eyes as he sat down with his back leaning against the chair. He wanted to forget hearing about Lucius Malfoy and listening to the plans for finding somewhere for him to hide out for the next few months. He wanted to stop thinking about the fact that the man was no longer in Azkaban and instead under the protection of the Order. He wanted to stop thinking about all of this because he felt as if there was something he had missed, something that had come of this night; it was as if something was going to happen.

The fire turned green and Snape stepped out of the fire carefully. Harry opened his eyes and watched him. Snape looked tired, much too tired than usual, and seemed to be in a bad mood, not that he was ever in an extremely good mood.

"A drink, Harry," Snape ordered, falling into a chair.

Harry brought out his wand and waved it at the cabinet in the corner. It unlocked itself and a bottle of firewhiskey flew into Harry's hand.

"Not that one," Snape said without even looking at Harry. "The one near the back."

Harry nodded and this time directed the bottle to Snape, who poured himself a glass and then took a long drink from it as he set the bottle down on the floor.

"What happened?" Harry dared to ask after Snape had drowned his first glass and was going for another.

Snape didn't say anything at first, but then he answered. "I never would have thought that the Order would do something so stupid. To allow Lucius Malfoy to remain outside of Azkaban, this will not go unpunished."

Harry gasped. "He – he'll hurt you?"

Snape merely nodded as he took a sip of his drink. "I am not sure how this will be my fault, but he is already angry with me."

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Snape didn't say anything. He instead stood up and sat his glass down, moving towards his bookshelf as if he were looking for a book, but stopped in front of it and did not extend his hand to grab any of them.

"How much do you know about your ability to talk to snakes?"

Harry hadn't expected that question, and thought quickly as he said, "Someone asked me much the same question on Halloween."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"My ability was passed on when the Killing Curse backfired, Dumbledore told me. He believed that some of Voldemort's abilities were passed on to me when he attempted to kill me."

"So they came from the Dark Lord?"

Harry nodded, but added, "The thing is, even though Dumbledore is right most of the time, he could also have gotten this wrong. I may never know if it was my own ability to talk to snakes, or Voldemort's ability that I just – I don't know – took on."

Snape suddenly grabbed a book, but did not open it, or even look at it. Instead, he reached into the spot where the book had previously rested and ran his hand along the back of the shelf. Harry watched as it slid backward and then turned on the spot, before sliding forward again. Different books now sat on the shelf, and Harry could tell that these books did not just contain theories on Dark magic or the mention of spells without the incantations; these were books on the Dark Arts, books that taught someone how to do Dark spells. Snape looked at the titles and picked two out and motioned for him to take them.

Harry hesitantly stood up, and took the books. Dread fell over him.

Snape picked out two more books and then turned around and walked back to where he had been sitting. Harry took his seat once more, still holding the books on his lap.

"For a long time I wondered," Snape said, "what makes certain people have the ability to talk to snakes? I am not the kind of person that will leave something unanswered. I have many times spent years looking for an answer to not only this question, but so many others. Is it genetics? Is it passed down in some way through a family line? So many questions unanswered, and it all begins with the beginning of magic."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I discovered two years ago," Snape said, "that in the beginning, magic came from the earth. It was given to those that were known to deserve it, and so the gift of speaking to snakes was also given to those that either needed it, or deserved it, even though some records state that it was at first a curse. A young boy put the curse on his best friend and he could only, after that, talk to snakes and no one else. His children could speak to both snakes and humans, and from there they came. However, most famous Parseltongues have been Dark Wizards. Salazar Slytherin was the last one before Voldemort, and they are related directly. Then there is you."

Harry shifted in his chair, "And a first year Gryffindor."

Snape looked startled for a moment. "What is her last name?"

"Copperfield," Harry answered. "She's a Muggle-born."

"Just like – " Snape trailed off.

"Like who?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "No one," he said as if he had just gotten some deep understanding of something before he opened one of the books and flipped to the table of contents.

Harry didn't want to bother him, and he knew a dismissal when he heard one, but he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to go back up to the Gryffindor tower. He looked towards the room he had used before September and got up, leaving the books Snape had handed him on the nearest table. He headed to the room, glad that he had thought to leave clothes there just in case.

He had just reached the door when he felt Snape's eyes on him.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Going to bed," Harry returned.

"Here?"

"I'm too lazy to walk back to Gryffindor tower," Harry responded.

Snape didn't seem to know what to do, before he asked, "Your friends will not wonder where you are?"

"They will simply imagine that I got up early and went to help Remus or that I headed down to breakfast; they've known me to do that before."

Snape nodded and turned back to his book, but stopped. "Harry," he said. "I know this is completely off topic, but I meant to mention it the other day. Lately, you're very hesitant as to what to call me outside of class. I have noticed it, you know. "

Harry bit his lip in a very Hermione-like fashion. He realized he had been ignoring calling Snape anything unless he was in class and he had to address him as Professor or Sir, but he hadn't thought much of it. It was just something he tried to ignore, and now Snape had brought the subject up.

"You can call me Severus, if that helps, if you don't know what to call me."

Harry coughed. "Se – Severus?" He said out loud.

"That does happen to be my name. Though I would advise you use it only within these quarters or when we are alone."

Harry nodded and turned to walk to his room.

"Goodnight, Harry," Snape – no, Severus – said.

"Goodnight, Se – Severus," Harry said, stumbling over his father's name.

**Author's Note: **Nothing to say, really...just hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others...and look it isn't even a cliffy. Happy New Year! please review...I always love hearing from my readers...and of course questions are always welcome!

Happy Holidays.

-Erika


	18. Escape

**Author's Note: **Earlier than expected...I know...but I've become very excited about this story of late and I felt like updating today, so lucky for you, you get ch. 18...lol...anyways thanks to everyone for the reviews and hope you like this one. This chapter has been beta'ed...

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Eighteen_**

_Escape  
_

_November 3, 1996_

For the first time in a long while, Harry felt well rested when he woke up. It was still early, he decided, seeing as he didn't feel the usual sunlight that drifted onto his face every morning, but he could hear someone walking somewhere in the next room. Snape, he thought. No, Severus. He wasn't up in Gryffindor tower, but in the dungeons. Harry rubbed at his eyes as he sat up and he searched for his glasses on his bedside table where he was sure he had set them down. Once he had found them and put them on, he slipped out of bed and felt the cold floor with his feet before he began to dress in the clothes the house elves had set out for him. He was so glad there was such a thing as magic. After pulling on his shoes, Harry went out to the other room and found Snape just as he had left him the night before; poring over the book he had gotten from his hidden shelf.

"Good morning," offered Harry.

"Hmm…yes. Good morning, Harry, breakfast is where it usually is." Snape was already eating breakfast, Harry noticed, as he walked to the small door that separated the small kitchenette from the sitting room.

"_Tempus_," Harry said waving his wand at the air as he pushed the door open. He didn't bother to look at the floating numbers that told him the time as he proceeded into the kitchen and towards the brilliant smelling breakfast.

Harry poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice from a small pitcher and then looked up at the time. It was just a few minutes past eight. He motioned with his wand at the air and watched the time disappear. He took a long drink, and then turned to piling his plate with food.

Snape entered the room a few minutes later and Harry looked up. "It's strange, isn't it?" said Harry when Snape had joined him at the table.

"What's strange?" Snape asked.

"That a year ago we would have been at each other's throats," Harry said.

"Time and circumstances change people," Snape said as if that were explanation enough.

Harry decided to let that be, and instead asked, "Why did you let me sleep late? I didn't even notice, I'm so used to having light come into the room in the morning."

Snape didn't answer at first and instead simply drank from his mug. "I thought you needed it," he said at last. His20lips curled into a small, almost noticeable smile

Harry gave him back a smile of his own and continued on with his breakfast in silence. He sighed as he finished. "It's like escaping the world, coming here; it's so different from the last two months without the pressures of school and of everything else."

Snape snorted. "You find peace in my rooms?"

"I find peace away from everyone else. They all expect something from me."

Snape gave him a look and then announced that he had brewing to do. "You can stay, if you like. Those books I handed to you last night might be important. Read them."

Harry nodded at him and watched him leave before he walked to the next room and spotted the books where he had left them. The other book, the book that had belonged to the Half-Blood Prince, was nowhere in sight and Harry imagined that if Snape was using it for something, he had already put it elsewhere. Harry reached for the books Snape had told him he should read and opened the first one, waiting for something terrible to happen, as often did with books on the Dark Arts, but nothing did. He flipped through the first few pages, not finding a title in any of them. He was at the table of contents and with just one scan of the chapter titles, he knew that the book was about Dark rituals. Why Snape wanted him to read about that was beyond him, but as he flipped to the first chapter, he settled down comfortably and began to read.

-

-

-

The first words that Hermione said to him when he sat down for dinner that night were, "Where were you?"

Harry didn't answer until he had taken his seat next to Ron and across from Hermione. "With Remus," Harry offered, piling his plate with food. "He was helping me with something."

Hermione didn't seem to believe him. Even though she gave him a doubtful look, she asked, interested, "With what?"

"Oh, just this and that," Harry said and turned to Ron, "I was thinking," he said, "we could have practice tomorrow, to get back into it. We have until December; that's when the first match is, right before we have break."

Ron frowned. "December? Don't they usually begin in November? I was wondering why we hadn't had a practice yet."

"Dumbledore wants to set up stronger wards around the pitch. That's what McGonagall said, and it makes sense, all things considered."

"But, Harry – " Hermione began.

Harry ignored her, "Could you get the word out, Ron?"

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and shrugged before nodding at Harry. He then went on to begin his dinner by shoveling a large amount of food into his mouth.

For the rest of the meal, Harry ignored any question that Hermione had about where Harry had gone to. It was as they were leaving the Great Hall that Hermione once more asked, "Last night, when did you get in? You were gone early too? How much sleep did you even get?"

"Oh, Harry didn't make it to bed last night. At least not his bed," Seamus Finnegan said with some amusement. "At least he wasn't there at two A.M. when I went to bed, and he wasn't there at five A.M. when Ron came in and woke me by falling into the wrong bed."

Harry fought the urge to groan or pummel Seamus for telling Hermione that. She glared at him. "You will tell me where you were," she said to him in a dangerous tone. She then walked past him.

"I didn't even notice," Ron said. "I was with Lavender. We fell asleep in the Room of Requirement."

Harry lifted an eyebrow at him.

"God, that's scary!" Ron said and shook his head as if to clear it, before adding, "Nothing happened."

Harry grinned. "I doubt you would tell me if something did."

Ron snorted. "What about you, mate? Where were you last night?"

"Like I said, with Remus," Harry said. "Hermione is making too big a deal out of this. I'm his apprentice, why can't I help him? I feel asleep while grading papers and he let me stay once I woke up at three because he figured it was too late anyway. I slept on his couch. I don't exactly want to announce this to the whole school. Does she have to know just about everything?"

Ron laughed. "She's Hermione, Harry; she wouldn't be Hermione if she didn't need to know everything."

"Yeah, alright," Harry grinned. "So, you and Lavender. I always thought Hermione was more of, I don't know – your type."

Ron snorted. "Hermione? No. I mean, yes, I liked her, but Lavender – ah, Lavender is the real thing. Hermione and I fight too much, anyway. She's too bossy. Can you picture that – the two of us? We'd never agree on anything. I wouldn't be able to do anything without her being in the middle of it."

Harry laughed, "Because she isn't now?"

"It would be much worse, Harry. You should see that."

"Fine," Harry nodded.

They entered the Common Room a few minutes later after saying the password. Hermione, Harry noticed, sat with her nose buried in a book. Taking a deep breath, he approached her and sat down next to her on the comfortable sofa. She looked up the moment he sat down, but right back down to her book a moment later.

"Why won't you tell me where you were?" Hermione asked in a muffled voice from behind her book.

"I was with Remus. I fell asleep while grading some papers for him. It was early when I woke up and he said to stay, so I did. I was going to return then, but instead I chose to help him out today."

"You're lying," Hermione said outright, "I don't believe you, anyway. You could have just said this earlier, but you're making everything complicated. Now, where were you?"

"Fine; I wasn't with Remus the entire time," Harry told her. He looked around and sighed as he stood up. "I can't tell you everything, you have to understand that I've been sworn to secrecy," he added. "Let's go to my room, we can talk there. Where's Ron? He was right behind me."

Hermione gathered her things and left them in a pile of the sofa while Harry looked for Ron. He couldn't find the other boy anywhere, but he had been right behind him.

"Forget Ron," Harry said. "I don't think he was really all that interested anyway."

Hermione laughed. "You can't see him, because he's somewhere hidden behind Lavender." She pointed towards the only part of Ron that could be seen – his right leg.

Harry laughed. "Then it is quite obvious he isn't interested."

Hermione nodded, looking anxious.

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Well, come on."

Hermione followed up to the boy's dorms. Once there, and once Harry was sure that no one else was up there, he cast _Muffliato_. "There was an Order meeting," he told her. "Dumbledore has agreed to let me go to a few of the low key meetings, so I won't be at most of them. Anyway, the only way he would let me was if I agreed to not tell anyone, which includes you and Ron, about what the Order is doing just in case. It isn't that you're not trusted. Ron's mom was so mad I was there, scared that someone would hurt me for the information. And I agree with them, I won't have you get hurt just because you know something that, at the end of the day, is not that important."

"But the meeting didn't last all night, did it?" Hermione asked.

"I was down helping Remus when Tonks sent her Patronus about the meeting. He told me to go see Dumbledore about it, and then Dumbledore sent me to Snape."

"Snape?" Hermione laughed. "How did that go down?"

"He was okay, actually. I think since we've worked on my Occlumency and the remedial potions this year we're getting along better which was – I don't know – probably Dumbledore's doing."

Hermione nodded. "I think that's a good thing," she said seriously. "He's the spy for the Order – it's probably important that the two of you get along."

Harry snorted but inwardly he was smiling. "Anyhow, Snape allowed me to go with him, on Dumbledore's orders of course. We got to twelve Grimmauld Place a few minutes later and the meeting began. I can't tell you anything from the meeting, of course, but afterwards I came back with Remus and I sort of crashed at his place, and I wound up helping him grade things all of today. More like reading=2 0his books. He has really interesting books on Defense. Anyhow, that's it, Hermione, that's all of it. I didn't want to mention the meeting, especially during dinner. I mean, think about it, anyone could have heard and gotten back to Voldemort, and I can't tell you everything."

Hermione nodded rather reluctantly. "I guess I can understand. This is how it felt like then, back last year when you were stuck with the Dursleys not knowing anything."

"I got over it," Harry said. "I will tell you if I really think I need to tell you, you know. I tell you about the meetings with Dumbledore. I'm not trying to keep anything from you."

Hermione sighed and nodded. "I shouldn't push you," she said. "With everything you're doing."

Harry grinned at her. That was what he loved about Hermione. She was always so distracted that she rarely ever noticed what was right in front of her nose, even though she knew that there was something that he wasn't sharing with her. She also rarely ever noticed how annoying she was being, but that was just her. Her heart was in the right place and really all she did was because she cared about him.

-

-

-

_November 5, 1996_

Lucius Malfoy was bored. He didn't only feel bored, but also useless. He was ready to go out there and do something for the Order, even if it meant sacrificing himself. He just couldn't handle having to stay in one place hidden from the world, trying to keep out of sight so that the rest of them could do something. He sighed. It was frustrating. It was a terrible thing. He heard a pop from the other room and sighed. And there she was again, the woman that was giving him nightmares, literally. Oh, how he hated Nymphadora Tonks and her overly happy persona.

"Lucius!"

Lucius groaned at hearing her call. Couldn't she just for once forget that he was there, or that she had to check up on him as she had decided that she would have to?

"In the kitchen," Lucius called out, hoping that her stay this time would not last long.

He didn't mind the others, not really. They all sneered at him and called him names behind his back. They didn't trust him. They didn't like him. He too distrusted them and disliked them; they had a good system going, but with Tonks all the rules were broken. She was nice to him. She seemed to care if something happened to him. She seemed more adamant to keep him within the house lest someone spot him and the news reach Voldemort. Tonks, he realized, was like – no! She was nothing like her.

He shook the memory of her face from his mind and tried to ignore the small pang of loss he still felt at even thinking about her. She was dead. He was never getting her back and it was about time that he tried to get over that. She had died in front of him, he had heard her cry out his name, heard her cry for Draco. Voldemort had killed her, and he would pay for that. Lucius would make sure that he did. Still, deep inside for some reason he felt as if he should not try to forget her. But she was dead.

"There you are!" Tonks skipped into the room with a grin. "So, I got you something. I know you're using Snape's clothes," she wrinkled her nose at the very thought, "So I figured you'd want your own clothes. I went by Diagon Alley this morning and got you some clothes that you can use. The spell on them will make them fit you perfectly and you don't have to borrow anything from Snape or others. I also used my abilities and pretended to be your wife, so I don't think it was too much trouble to ask for the kind of clothes you would wear, and I think they're really great. Really your type – "

Lucius laughed. "Miss Tonks, I do appreciate everything you have done for me. Thank you. You do not need to go to some much trouble just for me."

She smiled slightly. "It isn't much trouble. I know what it's like to not be trusted. I know you've done so much for the Order and, I don't know, I really don't like how the rest of them treat you."

"Well, thank you again, Miss Tonks."

"Just Tonks," she said. "Anyway, I have to go. Hope you have a nice day," and with a wave she was gone.

Merlin, he wanted to be useful, and being catered to by a pink haired, overly flamboyant Auror was not his idea of doing something useful at all. He couldn't just lay about doing nothing.

-

-

-

The door opened and slammed against the wall. A man stepped into the small room. He was wearing Death Eater robes, his face covered by a silver mask. Faye looked up from her spot on the small bed that had been pushed into the farthest corner from the door.

"He wants to see you," the Death Eater said.

"Of course he does," she said with a roll of her eyes, even though she stood. She was pressing a cloth against her arm and continued doing so as she followed him out of the room.

"Why not use a potion for that?" The Death Eater asked, looking pointedly at her arm.

She laughed. "My blood is valuable," was all she gave in explanation.

He said nothing in response and then instead continued leading her down a long corridor. After turning into another hall a few minutes later, he looked at her. "I don't understand," he said.

"Don't understand what?" she asked.

"How can you be so, I don't know, so alright with everything? You're not like the rest of them, obviously. I mean I've seen how the others are kept, but you're – oh, I don't know."

She reached out and took his arm, stopping him from walking on. "How old are you, boy?" She asked.

"I'm not really supposed to talk to you," he returned, glancing around nervously.

"I think that's water under the bridge." She gave him a faint smile. "Now, answer the question."

"Eighteen," he said. "Nineteen in December."

"Just two years older," she muttered to herself and then, louder, addressing him, "How long have you been a Death Eater?"

"Just a few months; my father pushed me to do it. He's wonderful, isn't he?"

She shook her head. "I cannot agree with that. You do not know him."

"But I do!" he insisted.

"I am more than twice your age. I have been his prisoner for sixteen years and I can tell you that he has not ever been the man you think him to be. Haven't you learned your history?" She seemed to be almost kidding.

"I was never too interested. I was terrible at school. Why?"

"Ever hear of him before your father made you take the Mark?"

"Well no, but – "

"Then you know nothing, boy," she told him. "Go to a bookstore and ask for something on Harry Potter and You-Know-Who."

"Well, aren't those lies?" He asked.

"He would want you to think so," Faye told him. "He wouldn't want you to know the truth; it would give him less power over you, which is all he has left in the long run." She gave him a smile. "That is the entire point. That is why you don't know the truth. How long have you been here?"

"Since I joined. I wanted to be useful to him."

"Have you, then, ever been told you go to one of the meetings?"

"A meeting?" He asked confused.

"A Death Eater meeting, that is," Faye explained. "He calls for his Death Eaters, his most loyal, the ones that have become almost as insane as he is, and they talk about taking over the Wizarding world, when they aren't hurting someone. My arm is like this because of them. They are sadistic bastards that just live to hurt other human beings. How do you think I will look after this meeting if they are involved. You, boy, have become involved in a war that your side may very well win, but I will do my hardest to stop it and the more people that do so, the better."

His eyes were wide and surprised and wouldn't leave her arm, the red cloth still pressed against it.

"They hurt people? Innocent people?" He asked.

"Muggles, mostly," Faye added, "Unless someone gets in their way, and a lot of people do. The Order, which is the side fighting this one. I do not officially belong to it, but the moment I escape this place I will."

He looked startled. "You're planning on escaping?"

"Well, what do you think I want most? I want to see my son. I want to see – " She trailed off, and then added, "I want to see him."

"We should get moving," the Death Eater offered.

"Promise me you'll try to get out; you'll see what you're really into. Please."

He nodded slowly and then continued leading her to her meeting with Voldemort. Faye followed rather reluctantly, but as she followed she began to notice that he wasn't exactly leading her the usual way. He was taking her somewhere else.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

"To see him," He offered.

"See Voldemort, right?" She asked.

He laughed. "Of course not. I wouldn't have been sent to do that, silly. To see Severus Snape, of course."

"Severus Snape?" She asked eyes wide. "_Severus Snape_?"

"Yes. He's the Potions Master, you know, I have to listen to him. I figure this is probably going against him, but like you said he is evil. Severus is a Death Eater; then again, there is something about him."

Faye smirked to herself. "Well, hurry then," she said. "I'm leaving this place, aren't I?"

**Author's Note: **I've suddenly found myself wondering about Harry's love life earlier this morning as well as the ending of this fanfic...and so I have three questions for you, dear readers, three questions that should be answered in your reviews as best as you can answer them concerning your opinion on these matters...

Do you like happy endings? Should this fanfic have a happy ending?

What about Harry's love life? Should he in all essence have one? Who from cannon would you like to fill this role best? Should it be an original character?

Ginny or Hermione? Which character do you like better and why?

I think I have a pretty good idea how this fic will end...but I also want to know what you guys think about the above. I mean I know the ending pretty well and everything that comes with it...but Harry's love life I'm unsure about still...anyhow, please answer me those questions...and please review...hope you enjoyed this chapter.

-Erika


	19. Relaxation

**Author's Note: **Alright...I know I said friday, but hey, no need to complain on a chapter being posted earlier than usual. lol. I think I'm posting today because I have nothing else to do...no, that isn't exactly true, lol, I have some history homework I should get to (Imperialism)...fun.

Enjoy the chapter and please read the note at the bottom of the chapter.

Thank you to M, Dizi, and Moi for your reviews...just thought I'd say that much on here seeing as none of you were signed on when you replied. Your input on the questions I asked last chapter will like the comments of course be considered...

And of course, thanks to everyone else who reviewed, last chapter got by far the most reviews out of any chapter in this fic...hopefully that record will be beaten eventually...lol.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

_Relaxation  
_

_November 24, 1996_

Harry slumped into the chair directly in front of Snape's fire. He could hear Snape moving around in his lab and he allowed the familiar sounds of his father brewing to allow him to relax. He had arrived an hour earlier than Snape expected him, and he hoped to finally get some peace. He now saw why Snape had been so concerned with everything he was taking on; he hadn't exactly realized how demanding Quidditch would become added to his lessons with Snape and his apprenticeship, not to mention his lessons with Dumbledore, though his lessons with Dumbledore had come to a pause, seeing as Dumbledore was busy with something that Harry was almost sure had to go with either the Prophecy or his blackened hand. He hadn't seen the Headmaster since the Order meeting that had brought Lucius Malfoy's real alliances to light - at least for the Order members. Dumbledore was rarely ever at Hogwarts anymore and if he was, he was never out of his office or rooms.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, still listening to Snape in the next room. He sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position, and then he fell asleep. It was a peaceful sleep, the kind that he hadn't really gotten in the past week with running around after all his after school activities.

Severus entered the room about an hour later ready to wait for Harry to come down for their lessons, and instead found himself almost smiling at the sight that met him. There was Harry, fast asleep in his favorite chair looking quite comfortable from the looks of it. However, Severus knew from having done it himself on a late night that even though it was comfortable at first, the strange position would not be a good one to be in when one woke up. With a flick of his wand, Harry was lifted gently off the chair and led towards his bedroom and his bed. From the looks of it, the boy was exhausted. He knew he had allowed Dumbledore to talk him into letting Harry do as much as he wanted. He almost considered asking Lupin to tell Harry he no longer needed him as an apprentice. What was Harry learning from that? He was just enjoying the company of his friend, while he could easily be doing homework or studying so that he would have time to sleep. Granted, he too was straining Harry, but he would never continue with a session unless Harry had finished his assignments. Lupin probably didn't take that into consideration. And Quidditch! Why did the boy have to play that sport?

Severus gingerly pulled down Harry's bed covers and sat the boy between his sheets. He reached for his feet and took his shoes off before covering him gently, allowing his hands to smooth the fabric over his chest. Harry gave almost a purr of satisfaction, followed by a sigh and turned slightly towards him. Severus, in a momentary lack of thought, pushed Harry's hair out of his face so he could see him clearer. He then slowly took off his glasses and once again brushed Harry's hair aside. He moved his hand away, but while he hadn't moved more than a centimeter, Harry's head moved closer to his hand. Severus rolled his eyes at the boy fast asleep and allowed himself a smile.

He was a brilliant boy. He had the ability to be charming, smart, and mischievous, but more than anything, he had the ability to crawl himself into the life of other people until those people did not know what to do if they lost him. He would never admit it to anyone, not even Harry himself, but he had grown very fond of him - of his son. He had come to see just how alike he and Harry were most of the time, and just how much Harry was also like his mother. It wasn't just in the eyes; it was in his kindness and in his outlook on life. He was like Lily in so many ways, and he wanted to keep him that way.

Severus slowly walked out of the room and into the sitting room. He picked up a book on the way and sat down on the chair by the fire that Harry had vacated. He opened his book to where he had last left off, but did not look down at the page. Instead he looked into the fire. He needed to somehow fix Harry's scheduling problem. He could do nothing about the classes that Harry took, those were all good and well. Dumbledore wouldn't be having a meeting with Harry until right before the break, so he didn't have to worry about that. Dumbledore had too much to do to meet with Harry regularly. Quidditch was obviously important to Harry, and he did happen to be the Quidditch Captain, which at least meant Harry got to pick the schedule, but that also meant that Harry would exhaust himself to win a silly match. The apprenticeship was the least useful thing that Harry was doing, but then again Harry had mentioned many times how it was opening his eyes to other possibilities to careers. He and Lupin had been talking about what Lupin had done for a number of years before teaching, and Harry had been quite interested with a lot of it, not to mention that teaching was growing on him.

Severus lifted his book from his lap but could not make out anything cohesive with his mind lost in thought. He closed the book gently and just stared into the fire.

He couldn't ask Harry to just stop doing the apprenticeship, but he could ask Lupin to pay more attention to how much he was loading up on Harry, and that Harry had many other responsibilities like Quidditch and his lessons with him. Or maybe he could spread his lessons farther apart, make sure he had at least two more nights during which he didn't have to worry about doing anything but resting. But he didn't want to spend less time with Harry.

He liked to just sit and talk to Harry, even if it was just about their day and not the current subject they were working on. He enjoyed having Harry help him with potions when Harry arrived early and entered directly through the lab, or when Harry joined him unexpectedly before or after Quidditch practices. They would still have time together, just not as much, and if it was hurting Harry enough that he would be asleep half the time they were together, then he would mention it, even if he didn't really want Harry to spend less time with him. He'd also talk to Lupin, however, about allowing Harry to have the weekends…and maybe two of the free periods so he could focus on something other than school work at every free moment that he had.

-

-

-

Harry woke up with a groan. It took him a moment to figure out what room he was in, and then once he knew that he was within his own bedroom in the dungeons, he settled back into his bed and rested for a few minutes, wondering just how long he had been asleep. After stretching his arms out, and rubbing at his eyes, he reached for his glasses and put them on. It was strange, however, once he had put them on. He could see better, but things were also, at the same time, slightly blurry. It was probably nothing. He slowly got out of bed, and ignored his shoes sitting at the bottom of his bed, and instead walked into the sitting room. Snape was in the room, sitting by the fire. He had an open book in his hands and seemed engrossed in it. Harry walked past him to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. He opened the first cupboard and found to his surprise that it was made up of only potions. He continued on, looking through everything in the kitchen, and discovered that there was in fact nothing edible in that room.

He walked to fire and grabbed a bit of Floo powder, throwing it into the flames. He shouted for the kitchen and stuck his head in.

The moment Dobby saw him, he ran to him.

"Oh, Master Harry, what can Dobby do for you, sir?"

"Could I have a butterbeer and something to eat?"

Dobby nodded and left to prepare something for him. A few moments later, he handed Harry a sandwich and his butterbeer. Harry smiled and thanked the elf before pulling his head back and going back into the sitting room.

"Ah, Sleeping Beauty has woken up," Snape said when he reentered the room.

Harry glared at him, but said nothing and instead bit into his sandwich.

"You still look tired," Snape announced suddenly, closing his book. "You are doing too much and I think that might be catching up to you; I've said it before. You have no time for your friends, or for anything else these days, and you're straining yourself, staying up at all hours of the night to finish homework. I did wonder why your latest essay had as many mistakes as it did; usually you do much better work. I wanted to talk to you about this actually, about you doing so much. You don't need to."

Harry snorted. "This has nothing to do with the fact that you don't think Remus is doing me any help? You can't ask me to just drop that. I really enjoy working with him."

"That is not what I am going to ask you. I, however, want to cut back on our lessons. I see how tired you are in class, how tired you are when you come to these lessons. You being tired does not help me teach you anything. You said it yourself; you want to continue your apprenticeship. I cannot make you drop a class, much less do I want you to, and Quidditch is a part of you. I cannot, however, allow you to continue on this path. We will only meet once a week from now on, and I will ask Lupin to give you your weekends to yourself, as well as to give you two of your free periods during the week."

Harry opened his mouth as if to protest, but Severus shook his head, and continued. "I know you want to work on all of these things, but you need time to rest, to eat, to sit and do nothing."

Harry nodded slowly. "Only once a week? What if I want to continue as we are?"

"I will not teach you anymore; only once a week."

Harry sighed and said nothing. He took a drink from his bottle before asking, "So, what are we doing today?"

-

-

-

_November 26, 1996_

Harry touched down to the ground. The practice had already gone on long enough, and he was tired. Even though he no longer had to go to Snape's rooms for three nights in a row, and Remus was pulling back on the work that he had been given Harry before, he still felt exhausted. But that, he figured, was because it had not been longer than a week since the new changes.

"Coming, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said and followed Ron into the changing room. He said nothing to rest of the team and instead walked towards a stall, stripping off his shirt as he walked.

Everyone had left by the time Harry came out fully dressed with his hair dripping water on his face. He was surprised Ron hadn't waited for him. Then again, he usually went to Snape after practices, but now he wouldn't because Snape obviously did not want him around. He felt as if he had nothing to do now, and he had too much free time to do anything. He slowly gathered his things and began walking to the castle.

He was almost at the entrance to the castle when he saw Draco Malfoy walking alone around the lake.

Draco was a strange one, Harry had long ago decided. They worked well together in potions, though sometimes Harry had to look out for the mood that the Slytherin was in for that would always affect their working conditions. Draco barely said anything to him, but he seemed to be trying to act civil. At least he didn't try to get Harry on his bad side. Hermione, when asked about the subject of the young Malfoy, would just shrug and say that maybe he had changed. Ron didn't know what to think and often times offered that Draco could be planning something and seemed to just need to be on everyone's good side. Ginny, who had for some reason been involved, had added that sometimes she saw him sulking alone, and that maybe it had something to do with his father or family expectations. Lavender, who had also been there, had simply stated that he was "hot", to which Ron had sulked for the rest of the evening.

Harry sighed and contemplated maybe joining the blond by the lake, but that would mean talking to him or getting back to their old feud. With a slight shake of his head, Harry headed into the castle.

-

-

-

_December 1, 1996_

Harry woke up cold on the first day of December, though that could have been because the only thing that covered him was a sheet. He knew he had been twisting and turning all night long, considering the dreadful dream that had plagued his sleeping hours; he couldn't even remember what it had been about anymore. Harry slid out of bed and walked to his trunk, glaring at the cold floor as he went. He grabbed a change of clothes and walked to the bathroom.

After a quick and warm shower, a fully dressed Harry grabbed one of his books and his cloak and walked down to the common room. He brought out his wand and pointed it at the fire to relight it and it flared up. He sat as close to the hearth as he possibly could and opened one of his books. He was reading for fun this time around, rather than for Snape, or for one of his many essays. He actually had no homework to work on that weekend, and instead could do nothing but read the books he had been piling up in his trunk which were mostly books that had been recommended to him by Snape and Remus.

He was just finishing the second chapter, about an hour later, when he heard someone walking down the stairs.

"Hello, Harry," Lavender Brown said casually. "Is Ron up? It's a Hogsmeade weekend you know, just for sixth and seventh years because of the Death Eaters and all that stuff. Anyway, I was hoping he would be up by now."

"You could go wake him. I wouldn't be opposed to that," Harry told her.

She laughed. "No. I'll let him sleep until nine. I'm surprised you're still here. No one ever sees you anymore. Ron was talking about that the other day; how you're always so busy you can barely even fit in time to just hang out."

Harry, who had never really had a long conversation with Lavender, even after she had begun dating Ron, shrugged, "I have a lot going on. I mean, I'm Harry Potter."

"The Chosen One, people say," Lavender whispered.

"That's just rubbish," Harry said. "He killed my parents, and it was my mother's love that saved me, that's all. I am no different from anyone else, though he thinks so."

Lavender took a seat. "This is nice," she announced. "Just sitting here and talking. We're not friends, are we? I mean, I'm with Ron, and Hermione and I talk sometimes, but then again it's awkward with her. I've always been close to you through the boys, but we've never just talked without it involving homework or, I don't know, Quidditch."

Harry nodded. "We haven't had a real reason to, I guess," he said, and then added as an afterthought, "I've seen more of you this year than any of the others because of Ron. I can tell you really care about him, though and that's good. He needs that. I'm glad the two of you are together."

Lavender beamed. "Thank you," she said. "I always thought he and Hermione were together. I never expected him to like me back. Do you think - do you think she likes him?"

"I don't think she does. She would be mad at him, otherwise. I think at some time they both liked each other, but now they've realized they're only good as friends. They would never have worked. Just think about it," Harry said, thinking back to a similar conversation with Ron. "Hermione and Ron have completely different outlooks on what they want and they're both too stubborn to compromise on anything, so I don't know if anyone could handle them being together."

Lavender nodded, and looked at her watch. "I think I'll go up there and see if he's sleeping."

"Alright," Harry said. "See you later."

Lavender flashed him a smile and walked to the boy's staircase.

Harry had completely forgotten about the Hogsmeade trip. It had been announced two weeks before and it had completely slipped his mind, but it was a good thing that he had finished all his homework during the week; now he could go and enjoy the trip to the all- Wizarding village and maybe start his Christmas shopping as well.

He stood up and closed his book. He shrunk it, and put it in his cloak pocket which he had on the floor next to him. It had been a precaution to the cold within the castle, and now it would serve as a precaution to the cold outside.

He had just walked through the portrait hole and made to leave the common room when he heard someone walking down the stairs. He turned and saw his bushy-haired friend walking down the stairs. Hermione had her bag slung over her shoulder and her cloak hanging from her arm.

"Harry!" she called. "Are you going down to breakfast?"

He nodded. "Lavender is up there with Ron. They're going to Hogsmeade together, I expect. I was thinking of starting my Christmas shopping."

"Exactly what I'm going to do," Hermione told him. "Of course now I can't get yours."

Harry laughed. "I can't get yours either, you know. Well, come on, I'm sort of hungry."

Hermione nodded and walked past him out of the Gryffindor common room, Harry following behind her.

He and Hermione had not been having the best relationship in the past few weeks. All they could manage was small talk, and sometimes conversations about the past, but Harry had to always keep his guard up with her around. He had to make sure that he didn't accidentally let something slip that would inadvertently give her some sort of clue as to his hidden life, granted she hadn't asked any more questions since the night he had fallen asleep in Snape's quarters and arrived back late the next day. That wouldn't be happening any time soon anyway, so Harry figured he would be okay for the moment.

"I was thinking," Hermione said, "about the protection around the castle. Is it just as secure when Dumbledore isn't here?"

"I expect so," Harry said. "Why?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's - I don't know, it's a silly thought really, but what if Voldemort could attack the castle if he knew that Dumbledore wasn't here? I mean, what if the wards are weaker then?"

"Dumbledore wouldn't leave things like that; he wouldn't take the chance," Harry said, "Even if whatever he is doing seems important enough."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said. "I just had this feeling last night, as if something was going to happen. Just, I felt like the castle was vulnerable. Like it still is, and there is a Hogsmeade trip today, and just - I don't know. Maybe I'm just worrying for nothing."

Harry nodded.

-

-

-

Harry and Hermione stepped off the carriage and walked into the streets of Hogsmeade.

"Where to first?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. Then, "Honeydukes."

Harry pushed the door open and held it for Hermione. They walked towards one of the shelves.

"Ah, getting a gift for Ron, I see," Harry said. "What are you getting him?"

Hermione laughed. "Chocolate frogs, but I'm also getting him a book. I also need some Bertie Bott's for another Weasley, and maybe some licorice wands, or sugar quills. Which one do you think?"

"For me?" Harry asked with a grin. "You don't have to. Sugar quills are better. They're useful half the time. Licorice is alright but no one wants to get that for Christmas."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "I've seen him eat licorice before. I think maybe I'll get him both."

"Who could this gift be for, I wonder?" Harry said, almost playful.

"No one, Harry," Hermione said. Then, "I think I'm set. No, maybe I'll get something for myself."

Harry laughed. "Of course."

"I think I'll get myself a box of sugar quills, too. Are you getting anything?"

"Not really," Harry said.

"Fine then. Come on; let me pay for all of this." She stepped up to the counter.

Harry stood back, and looked over a few of the stranger assortments of candy that could be found on the shelves.

"I'm done, Harry," Hermione called for him. "Where do you want to go, next?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess I don't know what I'm getting anyone this year. I'll have to figure it out. Where do you need to go?"

Hermione led him across the street to a book shop that Harry had never once seen before. A sign across the main window proclaimed that it had just opened.

"I didn't see that earlier," Hermione said excited. "Let's go see what kind of books they have in here."

Harry followed after Hermione and entered the shop. It was small and cramped, or maybe it just looked that way because of all the books that surrounded the walls. Hermione stepped towards the shelves and began to peruse titles. Harry felt that nothing could have bothered her there. He stepped forward and walked to the opposite shelf. They were mostly old books, some with titles, others without. None of them interested him; most of them seemed to just be about history. Then one caught his eye.

**_Parseltongue: How to Better Understand Your Snake_**

Harry had never found any books that mentioned Parseltongue exclusively, only some that mentioned Wizards that had used it. He frowned to himself and grabbed it. He would make a copy of it for himself, and then give it to Imogen; it was the perfect gift for her. He continued looking through the books for a moment longer, looking to see if there were any other interesting titles that he could get for Snape, or for Remus. He found nothing and wandered towards Hermione.

"Anything you like?"

"Everything," she breathed. "I'm only taking one, though," she said, showing him the one she had picked; a book about charms. She looked back at the shelf longingly, and caressed one of the books gently before moving away.

Without her noticing, Harry took the book and read the title. It was about wards and protective spells of all things, but Harry knew Hermione wanted it. He let Hermione pay first and then walked to the counter. He managed to keep the cover of the book Hermione wanted from being shown to her, and then it was in the bag. Harry shrunk it, and slipped it into his cloak pocket.

"That's a useful spell," Hermione said as they left the book shop. "Who taught it to you?"

"Remus," Harry said without hesitation. "I can teach it to you if you like."

"Alright," Hermione said, then, "Come on; let's go to the Three Broomsticks. I bet Ron and Lavender are still in there, and you can show me the spell."

"Alright," Harry nodded. "A butterbeer does sound lovely."

She laughed, and slipped her arm into his and pulled him toward Madam Rosemerta's respectable pub.

**Author's Note: **I wasn't entirely completely sure about what I am about to tell you now, until a couple of days ago when I finally my decision during my chemistry class during which I decided that I did not need to pay attention in class seeing as we were reviewing something to do with balancing chemical equations or something like that...but now I'm rambling. Anyway, I really had nothing to write in class, because I had stopped writing ch. 31 in such a spot the night before that I could not work on anything in my notebook, so doodling ensued. The thing is I didn't have a pencil so I couldn't draw anything because I can't draw with a pen (i'm not a terribly good artist but I can draw alright) so I started writing something that I really quite liked for this fic, but that I knew would never be in this fic just because I know my sequence of events and that one just wasn't something that would be found in the fanfic.

Now, I've been considering writing a sequel to this fanfic for a while. Usually I don't hold with sequel, they aren't exactly my thing because I'm bored easily and I get tired of characters and how they have developed in certain stories...but then I took into consideration the fact that I started writing this fanfic in late August and by the date I put this up in this site, I already had the first 6 chapters and then that fact that I am 2 to 3 chapters from writing the end of this fanfic. I have never writen a fanfic this quickly, especially one of this length. In my estimation it will be 34 or 35 chapters long...over 360 pages on word if not more.

Now, my questions concerning a happy ending and Harry's love life applied to the sequel more than this one, if I were to write one, which I have decided that I should, mostly because there is something about the plot that I cannot give up yet.

I know that within this week, maybe next I will finish writing this fic and so will begin writing the sequel as well. I do not update as much as I should considering that I am almost done because I am getting every chapter beta'ed and I don't want to post them and then have to come back and replace them...

But as of now I am writing a sequel to this fanfic...

This fic will basically take care of all of Harry's 6th year...it should be another 16 to 17 chapters more until the end.

Please review! Comments and questions are always welcome.

-Erika


	20. The Journal

**Author's Note: **I think I remember writing this chapter in less than an hour just because it did flow well...lol...anyway, enjoy the chapters...and now I should address some reviews that have come to my attention:

**Alex said: (recent review for ch. 4) **This story was pretty good until this point. This chapter has one of the cliches of this type of fic that I hate. The one where Harry comes to the conclusion that the few times that Snape acted as a responsible adult toward Harry outweigh his constant verbal abuse of Harry. **(recent review for ch. 12) **Pretty good, except for "Imy." She definitely has some Mary-Sue characteristics. All of a sudden she is a junior member of the trio? They have just started classes, so all of them barely know her.

**My response: **ch. 4 has been in my opinion the chapter I am least happy with in this entire fic. I think only parts of it came out like I wanted them to...anyhow, as to how Harry just overlooks, I would guess, the verbal abuse that Snape has put him through...I want to say that it is in a way a part of growing up. Harry may very well feel like it was undeserved and all that other junk...but Harry also can overlook that to act more mature than Snape had toward him...and basically when I wrote that I felt that Harry felt as if he had almost gotten back at Snape for it by looking in his pensieve...and then well, there's the fact that he felt as if they had both been terrible to each other and they needed to get over that...I don't remember most of my reasons for it, but...

Imy is not a Mary-Sue...she just appears that way and I meant to write her that way. She doesn't become a junior member of the trio...just like Hermione, and Harry start to talk to the Twins and to Percy during the Feast she talks to them...and then Harry takes a liking to her...Ron and Hermione talk to her to be nice...this character has a lot more to her than what is seen in this fic...and she too was partly the reason for the sequel.

thank you to HeartsGlow and everyone else that review!

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty  
_**

_The Journal  
_

_December 5, 1996_

Harry stared at himself in the mirror. He didn't look too different, just slightly different without his glasses. Snape came into his view, standing somewhere behind him.

"You look fine, Harry," Snape told him.

"No, I don't, Severus," Harry retorted. He had begun to refer to his father on a first name basis and thought it was working for him. "I look completely different. They'll all guess the moment they see me."

Snape - or Severus, rather - sighed. "Fine, wear your glasses then. You'll run into a wall, hurt yourself and then everyone will know what we are to each other and we will be in a deeper bind than we are now."

"Oh, alright then, but Hermione if no one else is bound to notice," Harry said. "She notices these types of things."

Snape was about to answer him, but instead gasped and clutched at his arm. Harry turned instantly and looked at him. "He's calling you," Harry said. "Go on, I'll stay here. I'll try and figure something out."

Snape nodded and rushed to his bedroom. "Harry," he called out. "Tell Dumbledore I am leaving for the meeting. I'll be back as soon as possible. I - I'll see you later."

Harry nodded, and added after a moment's pause, "Be careful."

"I always am."

After calling on the Headmaster through the Floo, Harry went into his room and sat down in the middle of the bed. He contemplated what the meeting could be about, but he found no recent events that he could relate to Voldemort either being angry or extremely happy about. In fact, he had been too quiet in the past few months, and it was just a matter of time before he did something.

Harry sighed and spread himself out over his bed. He had been spending at least one night with Snape per week, and then sometimes he would help him brew. He and Remus spent more time together, but most of the time Harry was helping him grade or helping him teach. Teaching was interesting, watching someone understand something after having spent five minutes explaining it. It was something that he enjoyed, but then again, he didn't in particular have too much patience for a lot of other things that came with teaching. He still would not cross that job off his list of possible careers, though. He was heavily thinking about just not becoming an Auror. He had only shared that with Remus, not even his friends knew about his thoughts on what he wanted to do with his life, which brought him back to the main problem - Voldemort and the Prophecy.

Dumbledore had yet to give Harry any more lessons on whatever it was that he wanted Harry to know, and now that he thought about it, he felt as if he needed to see Dumbledore and continue on with the lessons. They seemed important. He needed to know more about everything to do with Voldemort if there was ever a hope that he would have to destroy him. He hadn't talked about that with Snape, either. Snape, Harry knew, wanted Voldemort gone far more than a lot of people did, but for some reason, Harry felt as if Snape would not let him just go after him.

Harry rolled off his bed. He wanted something to do. He walked out to the sitting room and looked through his father's books. He'd read only a handful of them. He browsed the titles, but none of them seemed even remotely interesting. Harry paced around the room, humming. Maybe he could go up to the Gryffindor common room and hang out with Ron and Hermione, and if not them, then Imogen. He wanted to stay in Snape's quarters, though.

He walked back into his room and paced around. It was when he walked across his room the second time that he saw the box that had delivered the news that had changed his summer. Harry bent down and grabbed it. He set it on his bed and opened it. The letter was still neatly folded behind the replicas of his parents' and James' memories and behind that was the book; the diary – journal – that had once belonged to his father, if James had been correct.

With trembling fingers, Harry took hold of the book and brought it out. He closed the box and put it under his bed and then he settled back on his bed and opened the book to the very first page. He should have read the journal months ago, but he had forgotten all about it, and now he had it. He wondered if Snape knew that he had been given his old journal. He probably didn't. Harry didn't know if he should mention it to Severus or not. Maybe he should read it first.

_I'm not the kind of person to keep a journal of any sorts, other than a potions journal, but Lily convinced me to write this and I guess if I can admit to no one else I will admit it to this silly book, but I am putty in her hands. Then again, so are many of the boys in our year but Lupin. Lupin has some sort of ability to not be swayed by Lily Evans. Sometimes I think he's gay. Actually, that could easily be a possibility considering how utterly devoted the—_

Here, scratched out was the first five letters of the word, werewolf. Harry had an inkling that Severus had not wanted to even be reminded of Remus as a werewolf. Then the journal had to have been written sometime after the incident with Remus. Could it have been in his fifth year then, if he was still talking to Lily? Harry shrugged to himself and continued reading.

_—he is to his friends, his fellow Marauders. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew make up the group, and of course we should not forget Remus Lupin. They're all Gryffindors. Popular, of course, even the teachers like them. Only Lily seems to see my side in all of this . Of course I see them for what they are – bullies. _

_I guess I was wrong. Not that I am wrong a lot of the time, but maybe writing in this silly book isn't that hard. No one will ever read it. I'll make sure of it, and I can be myself to an extent. I won't give away everything of course. What if this was to fall into the hands of someone that would use this information to harm me? I do have enemies, after all, and in Slytherin, no one is your friend. _

_Lily thinks I'm paranoid about things, but then again, she's Muggle-born and a Gryffindor. She doesn't understand how it all works, even though she usually understands a lot of things like Wizarding customs. _

_I'm going to put this away, now. I think I've written enough for one day. Lily says she isn't going to read anything I write but that she wants to know that I'm writing in it at least once a day. She also claims that I will enjoy writing in it as much as I enjoy scribbling notes about potions. She doesn't understand; that is completely different. I can't possibly share my feelings, even with a book. _

Harry stopped reading and grinned to himself. His father was talking to a book through his writing, and even though he was trying to deny that he both needed and was alright with doing so, Harry could tell that he was lying to the book, if that was more amusing.

Harry turned to the next page. It was the next entry. He quickly read it. Within this entry, Severus described the Marauders in detail, and although he complained about James Potter and Sirius Black thinking they were better than everyone else, Harry thoroughly enjoyed the entry. For the next hour he sat and continued reading, enjoying learning more about his mother and the Marauders, whom Severus wrote about constantly. He particularly liked one paragraph describing Lily.

_She's beautiful. I can't even begin to imagine why she would even choose me, but I love her. There. I've admitted it to someone, or rather something. I love her. I love Lily Evans. I want her to forever be mine, with her flowing red hair, and those beautiful bright emerald eyes. More than just that beauty, but the beauty within, what only she has. Her kindness and her smiles, and the way she helps everyone that needs help. She has just an ability to show kindness to even the evilest of beings. Lily would help the Dark Lord if she could give him a life that would mean him giving up evil. I love that about her more than anything. She brings out the best in me. She's the only one that can let me see just how good I could be, when all the darkness prevails around me, haunting me. She's as innocent as a flower half the time, and then she surprises you with the knowledge of the world she has, but her kindness will always prevail. I hate that someone could hurt her so easily. She's delicate, though not so much that she could be defeated in a duel. No, it is the things that the ones that love her say to her, that can break her. Her sister, for one._

Harry continued on. His father had loved his mother. He saw enough in his writing to at least understand that. He read for another hour, but by then the odd yawn had been escaping him, and he felt as if he was going to doze off any minute. Not wanting Severus to see the book, he scrambled out of his bed and put the book back into the box. He would continue it later. He put the box back where it had been before and walked back to his bed. He didn't even feel like changing his clothes. He brought out his wand and waved it at himself and instantly his clothes were transfigured into his pajamas. It was a handy spell that he had learned from Severus one night.

Harry slipped into his bed and with a wave of his wand, shut off the lights. He slipped his wand under his pillow, allowed himself one more yawn, and then closed his eyes.

Harry felt as if he had not been asleep for more than five minutes when he heard his father enter the sitting room through the floo. Then he was sitting up, getting out of bed, and walking to the other room.

Severus had already discarded his Death Eater robes and was pouring himself a drink.

"Harry, you're still here," Severus said, surprised.

"I said I would stay," Harry said. "Did anything interesting happen? What did he make you do? You look – I don't know – paler than usual."

Severus didn't respond, but brought his drink to his lips. He then walked to his favorite chair and sunk into it. "Sometimes, Harry, I wish you didn't ask me such things. I do not wish to talk about it."

"But did anything – " Harry began, but stopped when he noticed the image of his father.

He was so different from his usual self. He looked defeated and destroyed. He must have been made to do something terrible. Harry wanted desperately to ask him if he ever took part in any of the torturing of defenseless Muggles, but he couldn't bring himself to even voice the question. He didn't want to know the answer. He didn't want to know that his father was a murderer – a killer.

Harry turned away. "I should head upstairs, shouldn't I? Hermione wouldn't like it," he said and began to walk back to his room.

"Harry," Severus said in a pained voice.

Harry stopped but didn't turn to face him.

"I do not wish for this to be your worry. My spying, this war, just all of it should not rest on your shoulders."

"It does. Nothing you can do will ever erase the fact that I will have to kill him. All of it rests on my shoulders. I'm The Chosen One. I will have to kill him eventually and nothing will change that."

Harry turned to look at Severus. He stared at his father for a long moment and before turning away again and walking to his room. Had he stayed just a second later, he would have heard Severus mutter something to him. As it was, Harry heard nothing as he entered his room. He was too wound up, he realized, when he reached for his shoes, to go up to Gryffindor tower. He looked at his bed. He didn't want to sleep. He was too awake. He wondered if he should dare read Severus' journal. He looked longingly at the box in the corner of the room, but thought better of it. Instead he got into bed. He turned on his side and closed his eyes, but he knew sleep wasn't coming.

Harry heard his door move and looked up. Severus stood at the door for a moment, before he walked forward and came to stand by Harry's bed.

Harry sat up slightly.

"I don't want to hide things from you," Severus said. "I don't want you to think that I am keeping something from you. I do, however, wish to not tell you things that I feel you should not hear. I know you know what goes on during those meetings, how could you not, but I think I have experienced enough of them to know that you do not want to hear about them."

"I don't need details," Harry began.

Snape stopped him with a motion of his hand. "I will not share anything unless you need to hear it. You need to trust me."

"I do trust you," Harry said softly. "I just can't help but wonder when you go to those meetings if you are the one killing some defenseless Muggle or a half-blood like me."

Snape seemed to want to say something to that, but for some reason he restrained himself and walked back out of Harry's room. "Set your alarm for five if you plan to stay down here. We'll need at least an hour to work out the problem with your glasses unless – did you figure out what could be done?"

Harry shook his head, and Snape continued, "I also hope no one will question you being missing last night."

Harry nodded and settled farther into bed. Without a backwards glance, Snape walked out of the room.

-

-

-

_December 6, 1996_

Harry took off his glasses. He set them carefully atop his closed charms book and opened his transfiguration book, flipping until he found what his latest essay was on.

Harry groaned at just looking at the words in his book. He didn't want to write the essay. He didn't want to do anything, really. He'd felt that way all day since leaving Snape's room with his fake glasses. Snape had finally decided that Harry looked too different without his glasses and instead charmed them so that they were just plain glass. Harry had not argued that the night before, and Snape had said he didn't look anything different.

He'd spent the rest of the day looking out at everyone through plain glass, which was sometimes annoying, he realized, but it was much better than the fuzziness that had covered his eyes throughout the last week. It was to do with his changes in appearance, Snape had explained. His bad eyesight had come from James' genes not Snape's.

"Harry?" Ron asked entering the room.

Harry scrambled for his glasses, but instead managed to throw them to the ground.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

Ron picked up Harry's glasses and handed them to him. "Thanks," Harry said and set them atop his nose. "What is it?"

"Oh, Hermione was just wondering where you were and if you were with Snape again," Ron explained. "How could anyone want to spend so much time with that git? Anyway, she's worried about Imy. Apparently she came out of her dorm crying earlier, clutching at a shoe box and then she left and hasn't come back. She knows you're closer to her than any of us. I think she was hoping you could go find her, or something – oh, she meant the map!"

Harry was glad he had left the map in his room at Snape's quarters. "Sorry, Ron," he said. "I gave the map to Professor Dumbledore back during that week I was here before you all came. He knew I had it, I had mentioned and it really does help with all the trouble out there."

Ron seemed put out at having lost such a great source of knowledge about the people within the castle, but he didn't say so. Instead he simply nodded rather reluctantly.

"I'll just go look for her. I think – I think I know what's wrong. I'll need to just talk to her."

"She sees you as an older brother, you know," Ron said. "She looks up to you so much more than any of the others, I can see it. It's the way Ginny used to look at Bill or Charlie when we younger."

Harry shrugged and closed his transfiguration book, glad for the excuse for not working on the essay. He stood up and walked out of the dorm in silence with Ron. Hermione rushed to them instantly as Ron offered Harry a smile and walked back to his girlfriend. It was then that Harry realized how much they had grown – all three of them. Not just apart, but in general. Hermione had always been more mature than he and Ron, but they had all changed drastically into this more grown-up version of themselves.

"I'm going to look for her," Harry told Hermione.

She smiled at him brightly. "I would come with you Harry, but she didn't really want to talk to me. I was hoping she'd want to talk to you."

Harry nodded and made to walk to the door.

"Did you find her on the map?" She asked.

"I gave it to Dumbledore," he said.

Hermione did not disappoint him. "That's great, Harry," she chirped. "I regret that we can't use it, but it's going to better use, isn't it?"

"Thought you would see it that way," Harry grinned at her. "Anyhow, I'll be back."

"Good luck, and please help her. She looked so distraught."

Hermione had always had a big heart; that was just how she was. It was one of the things that drew Harry to her. She didn't know when she came on too strong, she only ever saw one side to every story, and she was very much hypocritical on a number of things, but Hermione always wanted the best for any living thing, even if her methods of solving things were most often on fairness rather than anything else.

Harry walked to the dungeons first. He did need the map. He didn't know where Imy could have gone and the castle was big. Even he couldn't claim to know every nook and cranny of the castle, even though he did know enough secret passages to get him to class on time, which most often also helped when he was trying to avoid a crowd. Some were marked on the map, and some were not. It just took experience with the castle. Most seventh and sixth years, he knew, were most likely aware of at least half of his secret passages if not most of them.

"Harry!" Snape exclaimed surprised at his appearance.

Harry almost laughed. "I just came to fetch something. Imy's gotten upset over something. I was set on the task of finding her."

"This is your first year friend, the one that idolizes you?" Snape asked. "It was Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that a week or so ago. I took points, you know."

Harry laughed this time. "For what? Holding a fake deity?"

Snape snorted. "No. That would have been a good reason, however," he replied.

Harry rolled his eyes and walked into his room. He fetched the map from a drawer and opened it in his hands. "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_," he said, tapping it with his wand. "Imogen Copperfield," He whispered next and watched as the map searched her out.

She was in an unused classroom in the Charms corridor. Harry closed the map, tapped it with his wand again saying, "_Mischief managed_," and then walked back out to the sitting room, leaving the map back in its drawer.

"Did you find her?" Snape asked.

"Yes. The unused classroom in the Charms corridor," Harry answered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Snape nodded.

-

-

-

When Harry entered the almost empty classroom in the Charms corridor, he noticed at once that Imy was sitting on the ground at the back of the classroom, a shoebox next to her. He walked forward, stepping as close as he dared without giving her any indication of his presence.

"Imy?" He asked.

She looked up. "Harry," she said softly. "Oh, Harry!" She jumped up and threw herself at him.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and let her sob into his robes, not speaking, but just offering her as much comfort as he could.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said when her tears had receded. "I've blubbered all over you."

"It's alright," Harry said gently. "Now, what is wrong?"

She motioned to the box. "I found her, or him, I can't tell, but I found it once during Herbology, it was just sitting there in a corner. I didn't dare talk to it then, but when class was over I took her with me. She looked sick, so I thought I should take care of her. I should have come to you, but I thought I could handle it myself. I went up to my room today, and – and it was dead."

Harry reached for the box.

Imy turned away as he lifted the lid.

The snake was a beauty. It was thin and not too long, coiled within itself in the box. It was also very much dead. Harry reached to touch it, tentatively. The greenish yellow snake was cold and almost stiff. Without a doubt Harry expected that it was dead.

"It's dead, isn't it?" Imy asked. "I got really attached to the little thing. It really could say the strangest things."

Harry smiled sadly. He would never have wanted her to deal with the pain that came of knowing death.

"Come here, kid," Harry said.

Imy walked over to him and knelt next to Harry, looking at the small body of the snake. She buried her head in his shoulder, but this time she was not crying.

"Harry?" She ventured to ask after a few minutes.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"You'll help me bury it, won't you?" She asked softly, almost as if she didn't want to know the answer to the question.

"Of course, Imy," Harry said. "How about tomorrow, it's too late to do it tonight." Harry didn't want to add that he had the slight suspicion that snakes sometimes hibernated and he wanted to look that up before he gave Imy false hope or for that matter he helped bury the snake and wound up actually leading to its death.

"We should head back to the common room." Harry said, closing the box on the snake. "I think I'll take it with me. Do you mind? I just don't want you getting upset over it again."

Imy nodded. "It's probably best," she told him, getting back to her feet solemnly. "I'm really glad you're here, Harry."

Harry stood up, carrying the box. He led Imy out of the unused classroom and down the corridor. As he saw the small smile that played across Imy's lips, he hoped that he was right and snakes did hibernate, and that this particular snake was hibernating.

**Author's Note: **I will admit that I have been meaning to get that journal of Snape's into this fic again sometime lest I be accused of ignoring tiny details like that, lol...anyways, thanks for all the reviews...questions of course are always welcome. please review, I love hearing what you think about the fic...I'll probably update wednesday again...

-Erika


	21. Reunion

**Author's Note: **Ah, and yet another chapter. Enjoy. This chapter has been beta'ed by the amazing, JulzPadfootMoony.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty One_**

_Reunion  
_

_December 8, 1997_

With all the excitement after his last Quidditch match – when he had gotten into a fight with Draco Malfoy and he and the Weasley twins had been banned from playing another Quidditch match until this one – Harry had almost forgotten the thrill that came with flying up onto the pitch with all the students sitting in the stands cheering for the team that would benefit their house. He had forgotten in between everything how liberating it was to finally play Quidditch again – how euphoric.

The first motions of the Quidditch game were done quickly without a second thought. Harry, upon shaking Cho Chang's hand, found that while it reminded him of his previous year and his fixation with the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, it did nothing to how he now viewed her – just another girl.

The whistle had been blown and the match had begun mere minutes before.

"Weasley in possession. Good flyer that girl! Passes to – no, intercepted by Ravenclaw chaser, forgot her name…anyway…."

Harry was flying near the Gryffindor hoops in hopes of spotting the snitch and keeping an eye on the match as well. While the commentary was all well and good, Harry wanted to pay attention to the game himself.

"Gryffindor in possession once again. Passes to Weasley. Weasley passes to Robins. Robins scores and doges bludger. Peakes goes after the bludger. Nice hit towards that Ravenclaw chaser I still have no name for. Come on, who is that girl?"

Harry looked around the field, cursing his glasses and the biting wind. It was what they got for playing a Quidditch game in December, he reasoned, not that November had been much better. He continued surveyi ng the pitch, and then turned to looking at how the team was doing, trying to find anything that he would want to correct for the next game. Ron, he noticed, seemed nervous. There had to be a way to rid him of those nerves. Harry watched one of the Ravenclaw chasers approach.

"…scores! Ten and twenty to Gryffindor! Gryffindor in possession…"

Ginny, on the other hand, seemed the very essence of confidence and practically leading the other two chasers around, even though Katie Bell had been a chaser for longer. The beaters, Cootes and Peakes, Harry was quite glad to admit, were not causing any sort of chaos as they had during their last practice when a bludger had not only hit Ginny, but Ron, and Colin Creevey who had been watching the practice.

"…and Bell scores!"

Harry scanned the field once more, looking for a hint of gold that would lead to end of the game, and the end of him sitting above the hoops, freezing. Harry turned away from the field, towards the stands.

Hermione was sitting with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Harry's eyes drifted to the Slytherin stands, finding nothing interesting in the Gryffindor ones. He noticed Draco almost at once. He sat with a blanket thrown over his shoulders, which he didn't seem to be using alone; in fact, the same blanket was thrown over the shoulders of a smaller figure to whom Draco was talking to. In fear of getting too curious in what was happening in the stands and forgetting to look for the snitch, Harry ignored the stands and continued his scan of the Quidditch pitch.

Fifteen minutes later, they were up thirty points at fifty. Harry had yet to even catch sight of the snitch, and continued watching the game. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Cho had come to hover over him.

"Haven't really talked to you since last year," Cho said sheepishly. "I'm sorry at how things ended. I was stupid."

Harry shrugged. "At the end I didn't – I don't know…I didn't care, really. I was upset about my godfather more than anything."

"Yeah," Cho said. "I'm sorry about that. He was Sirius Black, right? No one's really sure, but there are rumors."

"That was him," Harry answered.

Cho didn't seem to know what else to say so she remained quiet. They continued looking for the snitch. Cho let out a gasp when one of her chasers nearly ran in to one of the hoops, and then let out a sigh of relief.

"I've told that girl so many times," she said suddenly to Harry. "She never watches where she's going."

Harry laughed. "I never realized how hard it was to be captain until this year," he told her.

"I know what you mean," Cho returned. "I love Quidditch, but it's sometimes just too much responsibility."

Harry didn't respond. His gaze had turned towards the Gryffindors' stands again. He had seen some movement in the crowd and noticed at once that Imy had joined Hermione and was huddled up against her. On her lap was a small shoe box. Harry smiled to himself. The snake had in fact been in hibernation. It had just taken a little research but he had found the signs and then he had showed Imy. Now, she wouldn't let the shoe box out of her sight.

"What's got that smile on your face?" Cho asked. "You can't tell me it's Hermione Granger."

"Hermione?" Harry asked, giving the other seeker a dubious glance. "She's like a sister to me, you know. I love her as a sister, nothing more. She's my best friend."

"Sure," Cho said as if she didn't believe him before flying towards the other side of the pitch. Harry followed her with his eyes, trying to see if she had spotted the snitch. It was quite clear she hadn't when she once more came to stop and continued looking around for the small golden ball.

Harry's hands were cold, so was his nose, and his ears, and his legs for that matter. In fact, he was entirely cold, but he could do nothing about it, even if he dared bring out his wand to cast a warming spell on himself.

Harry reached for his glasses and took them off, glad to note that he could see better now without the plain glass obstructing his vision. He pretended to wipe his glasses on his robes and continued looking around. Nothing. No sight of the snitch. Where could it be? He began to circle the pitch and put his glasses back on, lest someone notice he could see without them.

Gryffindor scored three times while Harry circled the pitch in search of the snitch. He stopped when he was flying right by the Gryffindor stands and from there he looked around. He began to scan the stands again, and saw Snape sitting next to Professor McGonagall, who seemed to be keeping an eye on the commentator, Michael Corner, while holding a conversation with Professor Sinistra. Snape was watching the match attentively and looking, Harry knew, directly at him.

The score was one hundred and fifty to ninety to Gryffindor when Harry spotted the snitch. It was floating off to the side, as if it too were a spectator. No one had seen it. In fact, he too would have missed it if he hadn't swerved out of the way of a bludger. He flew slowly toward it, hoping that Cho wouldn't catch on to the fact that Harry had seen the snitch. And then when he was in close range, he extended out his hand and he caught it. The snitch settled gently into his hand.

"Potter catches the snitch and he wins his team the game!"

-

-

-

Lucius was restless. He was bored. One could do only so much when he was in hiding. He'd managed to clean the entire house for lack of something better to do, then he had snooped around for anything that might interest him – a locked chest that would take days to open, a book that wanted to eat him alive, a boggart. However, there was nothing interesting to be found in the Most Ancient House of Black.

Lucius entered the library for the third time that day, hoping that something would happen that would change the fact that he was stuck in twelve Grimmauld Place until the day that Voldemort died. How could he have let his spy role come apart so fast? And from what he had heard, it was only a matter of months before Severus Snape was also out of the ranks of Voldemort, and however much it would have pleased him to hear of it before, now Lucius couldn't help but feel a little fear. With no spy, they would be undone and then Potter would be killed and the entire Wizarding world would collapse under the tyranny of Lord Voldemort. He could picture it all in his head, the Ministry falling apart, Hogwarts becoming home to Voldemort, and the Order destroyed, left in only the memories of those that had lived to see them fall.

Lucius shuddered. Maybe there was something that he could do. Maybe he should try to get back to Voldemort, but it would be hard. It would be torture—literally. Lucius shifted his feet. He could very well die if he went back, and that wouldn't help the Order, especially if they extracted information about the Order from him. He had to go about it in a certain way, but he was almost sure he could do it. He had done it before, and he could do it again. He was Lucius Malfoy, after all, and what wasn't he but an opportunist according to everyone that knew him?

Lucius took a deep breath and walked to the books. He would find something, a story, a cover up. He'd have to make it good. He could begin with using Nott.

-

-

-

A smirk was splayed out across Faye's face as she lounged in a richly decorated room. She was lying in the middle of the room, atop a garish carpet, her head supported by her arms, which had been folded behind her head. She was staring at the pale white ceiling.

It was alright to just sit back and do nothing, without the worry that Voldemort would be calling for her so he could use her as an example during a meeting. She had to be very thankful for Severus Snape. She had expected for some time that the man was a spy, but she hadn't really given that much more thought for fear that Voldemort would see it in her mind, not that she wasn't good at Occlumency. In fact, keeping her thoughts to herself had become a natural gift after a few months of being with the Dark Lord.

Faye let out a small hum before sitting up. She crossed her legs and bit her lip. She had to get something to do. She knew it would be only a few days before she was sent to Order headquarters to record everything she knew about Voldemort. There had just been a bit of trouble with the warding the first time they had attempted to take her there, so she was staying put in one of the other safe houses the Order owned. However, in this one, she was not allowed to use her magic because that would give them her location.

"Faye!"

Faye jumped to her feet and walked to the door, throwing it open and walking down the corridor to the Parlor where she knew Tonks had come out.

"Wotcher," Tonks said the moment she saw her, followed by, "I don't have much time. I actually had to be back ten minutes ago, but Kingsley won't miss me – I hope. Anyhow, I'm just supposed to take you to twelve Grimmauld Place. The wards reacted earlier than we hoped, and anyhow, we think He's trying to find you."

Faye nodded quickly. "I'll gather my few belongings."

-

-

-

Harry laughed as he stepped into the Gryffindor common room. The rest of the Quidditch team was behind him, and he noticed that the rest of the house had simply been waiting for them to arrive from the changing rooms, even though it was quite obvious that they had started a small celebration the moment they had gotten back into the common room.

The Quidditch team walked farther into the room and all went to their respective friends and corners of the room. Harry stood in the middle of the room, looking around. He found it almost amusing that Ron and Lavender had already managed to curl up together with two butterbeers, but he knew better than to disturb them. It was the best thing that had happened to his best friend and he wouldn't bother him about it. He searched for Hermione and found her in the most remote location in the common room with Imogen.

He walked towards them, past congratulating house mates, and then sank into the nearest chair.

"Great game, Harry," Hermione said.

"It was quite boring, actually," Harry admitted.

"How?" Imy asked. "I thought it was right exciting, but then, I've never seen a Quidditch game. Was there supposed to be more to it?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really. It was just that the snitch was, I don't know, bored or something. It just wasn't up to flying around and making a sport of catching it. It was just sitting there and practically flew into my hand. It was an easy win, really."

Hermione laughed. "Only you would complain on not winding up in the infirmary like things usually tend to happen," Hermione said.

Harry grinned at her. "Well, there is that plus side." To himself, he added that it was a good thing because it could have made any changes that hadn't happened yet to his appearance.

They spent the next half hour talking about nothing and Harry found he quite enjoyed it. He hadn't done anything like that with his friends in a while, but he was getting tired of the noise around him.

"Could you cover for me, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I can't stand being here anymore. It isn't the company. It's just everything."

"Was it Cho?" Hermione asked. "I saw you talking. You've been acting odd all evening. You haven't exactly acted beatific either; not at all as if you just won the first Quidditch match of the year."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I guess – I don't know – I think I realized today how unimportant Quidditch is. Now come on, Hermione; I just need to go out for a walk. I don't think the rest of them would appreciate that."

"Harry," Hermione said. "I'm not stupid. You're going to meet someone, aren't you? You've been meeting someone since the school year began. You aren't gone as much as you were at the beginning, but…Ron and I talked about this. He told me you were gone just a few days ago, and frankly, Harry, I'm worried about you. You can't have been with Remus or Dumbledore until five in the morning, and I doubt even Snape would make you stay with him so long at your so called tutoring lessons. I need you to tell me the truth."

Harry didn't know if he should even bother answering her. "Fine," he said at last. "Don't bother covering for me. Just tell Ron I went to walk around the lake."

"It's freezing out!" Hermione said.

"It was rather cold," Imy put in. She hadn't said much throughout the entire thing and instead had been looking at her snake.

Harry smiled at her. "Sorry, Imy," Harry said. "I just need some time alone."

"I can understand that," Imy said.

Harry smiled at her. "At least someone understands me."

Hermione snorted. "Harry, you do not see what I see. You do not see your best friend completely changed not only in appearance but in the way you act. The things you say sometimes..."

"Look," Harry said. "You wouldn't understand Sirius dying. You wouldn't understand what happened this summer."

"Then tell me," Hermione said, practically begging.

"I can't."

-

-

-

"What are you doing down here? I would have thought you would be celebrating with your friends."

"Well, that's the thing," Harry said. "I'm just not in the mood. I don't know." Harry shrugged and took a seat. "I explained to Hermione earlier that Quidditch seems to not have become as important as I once thought it was."

Severus said nothing to Harry's assessment and instead stood up. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Hot chocolate would be nice," Harry said, absentmindedly. He stared at the fire, while Snape went into the kitchenette.

He was still staring at the fire when his father came back and handed him a mug of hot chocolate. Harry wrapped his hands around the black mug and held the warm drink in his hands for a while, before lifting it to his lips to take a little sip. It was then that the fire turned green and Dumbledore stepped out into the room without so much as asking permission to come through. Behind him came Remus Lupin who, Harry noted, looked sick. Then again, the full moon was in two days and he was bound to look terrible.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, surprised to find him there. "I did mean to have a meeting with you before the holidays, but I am afraid that once more I must post-pone our meeting. After the holidays would be best, I believe."

Harry nodded. He had been wondering when Dumbledore would let him know more about Voldemort, as well as a number of other things that he had said he would share with Harry.

"The warding has finally worked," Dumbledore said, addressing Snape. "Tonks will be taking her to twelve Grimmauld Place as we speak. Is she truly to be trusted? Lucius is there."

Harry had no idea what they were talking about, but for fear of being told that he had to leave, he asked no questions.

"I did not question her, as you well know, but Ms. Tonks most likely did. It was her job, after all. She also does not have the Mark and added to that, she is not the spy type."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Neither was Lucius Malfoy, or Peter Pettigrew."

"Well, she'll be fine with Lucius, then," Snape snapped at the lycanthrope.

Harry couldn't help speaking up then. "Who are you talking about?" He asked.

"On Halloween, I met a very interesting woman," Snape said cautiously. "She has been a prisoner of the Dark Lord, or rather his followers, for the past sixteen or so years. She escaped with another Death Eater. He suffered for his mistake with his life, but she is finally free from the Dark Lord. She could not enter twelve Grimmauld Place for some reason so she was put in one of the safe houses. She could not use any of her magic there, however."

Harry frowned. "And now she can? How will Malfoy react to having a house mate? I mean, could he have seen her before? What if she hates him for maybe hurting her?"

No one had an answer to that. It seemed like they just had to wait until Tonks told them what happened from the first meeting.

Dumbledore and Remus left a few minutes later, and Snape stood up almost as soon as they had left.

"I think, Harry, it is time I go back to check on some potions that have no doubt had enough time simmering."

Harry laughed. "Is that your subtle way of saying that you're tired of me and wish me to leave?"

"On the contrary," Snape said. "I simply felt that sitting around talking about practically nothing might be improved upon by working on some potions. In fact, I think I feel like experimenting today. I think I know your abilities well enough that we could create something, after all that healing foam that came of the first potion disaster in your class is actually quite good."

Harry grinned. Snape rolled his eyes. Harry stood up and dropped his empty mug on a table before following Snape to his private lab.

-

-

-

Lucius Malfoy had just finished writing his letter and had waved his wand to dry the ink when he heard the Floo come to life. He hadn't expected anyone to arrive at the house for another few days as Dumbledore had explained. Apparently, he wasn't the only protégé of the Order at the moment.

He turned and saw Tonks step out. She looked harried and more than a little fatigued.

"Good afternoon, Miss. Tonks," Lucius said. "And what brings you here on this day?"

Tonks rolled her eyes at him. "Just Tonks, Lucius," she informed him. "And I am not here for a social visit. I'm just dropping off Faye. I trust you can show her to a room and accommodate her? I have to be at the Ministry of Magic – had to be there fifteen minutes ago, actually."

Lucius was silent. He said nothing to even acknowledge that he had heard much more than the first sentence, instead he was staring out into space as if he were lost in some memory.

"Faye what?" He asked after having regained his voice.

"Malfoy, isn't it?" A voice said from behind Tonks.

Lucius turned to look at her and gasped. "It can't be," he muttered and shook himself. "It just can't be."

"You know each other," Tonks said surprised. "I certainly didn't expect that. Ah, well, you'll get on even better, then. Ah, I have to go. I'll be back later tonight. I do believe Dumbledore wanted to have a meeting." She seemed to want to say something more, but chose to not say a thing and instead turned to the fire and stepped into it, throwing in a handful of Floo powder.

"Faye," Lucius breathed.

"Lucius," She said back looking amused, before a painful look crossed her features, but that changed again into concern before her face showed no emotion at all. "I've wondered for years, if I would ever see you again; if I would see my Dragon. How – how is he?"

"They've told me he is well. Draco isn't exactly aware that I am here, but Severus mentioned that he is doing well. There is all the pressure of having been told that he must kill Dumbledore, though, and Severus can't – " Lucius stopped. "I guess there is so much you don't know."

She nodded slowly. "Lucius – "

"I know," he said and crossed the room to her side. "I know," he whispered. "You don't have to say it. I missed you, too."

"My pureblood prince," she murmured.

"My beautiful Mudblood."

**Author's Note: **Right, well...to my first happy news...I have finally finished writing this fanfic...and it is exactly 35 chapters long. So just fourteen more chapters left of this fanfic. I plan on starting the sequel this weekend and hopefully getting it all together. Lately I've been working on a memoir and transformation poetry...

Anyway, I know most of you had guessed who Faye was...so guess for those of you who didn't find it that clear...Faye is Draco's mom. A muggle born that Lucius fell for, whom is the reason he switched sides...I think Severus hinted at that when talking about Lucius...of course Draco is not aware that Faye is his mother but is under the assumption that Narcissa is his mom...and finally Lucius and Faye are together again...their story will come up in the sequel...

Anyhow, thanks for all the reviews...and please keep them coming! I love hearing from you guys and of course responding...questions are always welcome. Enjoy!

Updating Saturday...maybe Friday if I get enough time to...

-Erika


	22. I Must Not Tell Lies

**Author's Note: **I had my friends over last night and they left pretty late, so I didn't have the time to update. Anyhow, thanks for all the reviews...really enjoy hearing from you guys. Enjoy the chapter.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty Two  
_**

_I Must Not Tell Lies  
_

_December 20, 1997_

"Mum said you can come to the Burrow for Christmas," Ron told Harry conversationally when they were heading down to breakfast. "You're invited too, of course, Hermione," he added, looking at Hermione. "Lavender's also coming to stay near the end of the holiday for a couple of days, if her parents agree. She's pretty positive that they will. It'll be great."

Harry didn't say anything to agree or disagree and instead wondered if Snape expected him to spend Christmas with him. The thought hadn't crossed him until that moment. If he did spend the holidays with Snape, where would they go? His house?

"Harry?" Ron asked. "Should I owl her to tell her you're coming?"

"Um…" Harry said, not sure what he could tell his friend. "I'm not sure what I'm doing this year. I have to consult Dumbledore on the matter. He very well might want me to stay here or continue a bit of my training."

Ron looked insulted at the very thought of Harry working during the Christmas break, as well as, Harry knew, the fact that Harry didn't agree readily to spend his Christmas with him and his family.

"Come on, let's just head to breakfast. You can figure out all this business later, but we have only a bit of time to eat and I thought we could go to the library before class." Hermione said.

Ron rolled his eyes. "What could you want with the library now?" He asked.

"I just need to look a couple of things up," she said, and walked on ahead of them.

Ron said nothing to Harry and walked after her. Harry knew it was going to be a long day. It was the last day before the holidays began, anyway, and that was always a hectic day. Harry took a deep breath and followed them into the Great Hall.

Ron didn't say much all throughout breakfast, not that he usually said much through shoveling food in his mouth. That had been a consequence of Hermione hexing him once for spraying her with food. Harry thought that he had better get the whole matter figured out lest it mess up his friendship with Ron. Of course, there was also the matter of his and Severus' relationship being exhumed eventually. He wasn't entirely sure Ron would take that well either. Maybe he could make an appearance at the Burrow, at least for a short amount of time. Snape would agree to that, wouldn't he?

Harry had just finished his tea when Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag.

"I'm going to the library," she announced. "Either of you want to come along?"

Ron snorted, but Harry stood up. He didn't think that being left alone with Ron would be such a good idea; he might just feel bad enough t o say yes to Ron and then he would have to say no, and somehow someone would be mad at him.

"I'll come," He said to Hermione, and followed her out of the Great Hall. He turned to see Ron shrug and continue eating. At least he could trust Ron to not care about anything as long as food was in front of him.

The library was empty, considering that most of the school was down in the Great Hall.

"What are you looking for?" Harry asked.

"Potions book," Hermione told him.

That immediately peaked Harry's interest. "A potions book?" He asked while Hermione looked through a few shelves. "For what?"

"Oh, I just need some background on a potion that seemed interesting in the book but didn't have much information."

"Which one?" Harry asked.

Hermione pulled a book out of a shelf. "Just a potion that Snape mentioned the other day, Felix Felicis; it just seemed like the kind of potion that might be helpful. I mean, considering the war and everything. I just thought that when the time came that this might come in handy. I looked it up in our book. All it did was describe it, but I just needed to know more."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You could have just asked me, you know. Felix Felicis is for luck, it is toxic is high quantities, and sometimes even goes as far as to give the drinker excessive confidence that will lead to "Gryffindor recklessness", as Snape put it. The potion can, of course, also give you the best day of your life." Hermione looked at him surprised. "Snape explained it to me a month or so ago during his tutoring," He thought to add.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Then, will it be any help to you, then? I mean, say you take it on the night he attacks, would it make a big difference?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Look, this potion – it might not help where I'm concerned. Anyway, we have to get to class."

Hermione sighed and nodded, but Harry thought that she would do some research on it, regardless. He would have to talk to Snape about it when he next saw him, as well as about Christmas.

As it turned out, Harry didn't have to wait long to see Snape. He had just been leaving his last class of the day, fully intending to use his free period to help Remus sort through the last few essays he had assigned his third year students, so that h e wouldn't have to work during the holiday; however, his plans had been waylaid when Professor McGonagall asked him to stay after class.

"Oh, do not look so worried, Mr. Weasley," she said to Ron when he patted Harry on the back and glared at her. "Mr. Potter is not in trouble."

Ron said nothing to her, and walked out of the classroom.

"Should we wait – " Hermione began when McGonagall waved her off.

Harry shrugged at his friends and waved them off. They left the classroom, though not without giving him one last glance in questioning. Harry turned to the Transfiguration Professor and opened his mouth to ask exactly why he had been asked to stay behind, but McGonagall had already made her way to her office, and was beckoning him inside.

"The Headmaster wants to see you, Potter," She told him. "You may use my Floo to get to his office. Professor Lupin has been informed of your absence."

Harry nodded. Professor McGonagall extended out a small pouch of Floo powder and allowed him to take a handful before motioning for him to go. Harry did without a second thought, and then he stumbled out of Dumbledore's fireplace, catching himself before he fell to the ground before dusting a few remains of the powder off his robes.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I trust everything is well?"

"Yes, sir," Harry responded.

"I received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley this morning requesting that you be allowed to go to the Burrow for the Christmas break. I have yet to send them an answer."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure I should be the one being asked," Harry said. "I'm not sure what Severus' plans are, and he is my fa—father."

"Hmm, yes," Dumbledore said. "I did think of that, you know. He should be here momentarily."

Harry nodded, but said nothing. He had no idea what he could say to Dumbledore, in any case.

"Would you like a sherbert lemon, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. His gaze focused on a small bag, from which he was picking a yellow candy.

"No thank you, sir," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. It was then that his father stepped out of the fire gracefully, and immediately noticed Harry sitting across from Dumbledore.

Dumbledore motioned for Snape to sit, and Snape did readily all the while speaking, "This did not sound urgent, you mentioned a letter from the Weasleys, I believe."

Dumbledore nodded. "They wish for Harry to spend the holidays with them, but of course there is the question of the wards and with everything else, well, even considering the circumstances I fear I wouldn't have allowed Harry to go to the Burrow."

"Then it's settled," Snape said. "Harry will be staying with me for the holidays."

Dumbledore smiled at both of them, but gave Snape a look that Harry could not quite interpret. Snape didn't acknowledge it, and instead turned to Harry. "That is alright with you, I imagine. You wouldn't rather be with your friends?" He sneered at the last word.

"They will not like it, but I am fine with it. You are my father, after all."

Snape let out a snort but said nothing to Harry, and instead addressed the Headmaster, "I've been meaning to mention a number of things to you of late, Albus," he said, giving a side long glance at Harry before continuing. "In light of Draco's involvement with Amycus last weekend, I want to have it made clear that the boy must be watched."

"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore said, "Young Mr. Malfoy will not cause trouble for me."

Snape smiled grimly. "It is not trouble that I am worried about. He grows desperate. He is not to be trusted."

Dumbledore seemed to once more shrug the matter off. "It cannot be helped that the boy can be told nothing of our plans. I wish things were simpler, that we could simply tell him about his father, but that will not help our case."

Snape scoffed but did not add anything to his argument.

Dumbledore once more picked out a sherbert lemon and popped it into his mouth, giving a slight hum of pleasure, and then he checked his watch. Harry, who had still to gather any understanding of the strange watch, said nothing and simply looked around the office, but having been there often enough, most of the contraptions that would interest his fellow classmates held no interest for him, and he was almost bored.

"This, I believe, will conclude our meeting, then. I hope you enjoy your Christmas, Harry, Severus."

"Thank you, sir. I hope you get some socks, this year," Harry said, grinning.

Dumbledore chuckled. "And so it has passed, Harry, that every year including the one in which this detail was mentioned, that I have not received a single pair of socks."

Harry's grin grew bigger. Harry also noticed at once that Snape was shaking his head as if he thought the very idea of getting socks for Christmas a joke. Harry suddenly wondered what Snape would do to him if he found a pair of socks under the tree that were addressed to him from Harry. Harry almost felt as if he should give his father socks, if only to see his reaction.

"Happy Christmas, Sir," Harry said and turned to walk to the door, before stopping and turning once more. "When will my next—ah, lesson be?"

"I do not know, yet, Harry. It could very well be the day you return from your father's home. Or it could be a few weeks later. We shall see."

Harry nodded and opened the door. He stepped out onto the stairs, and turned once more to see Snape standing and saying something to Dumbledore before he walked to the fire. Harry closed the door and allowed the staircase to take him down to the gargoyle entrance.

-

-

-

"So, you're not coming, are you?" Ron asked, dropping his books unceremoniously on the floor. He looked offended.

Harry took a moment to sit down next to Ginny, before he answered. "Sorry," he said, trying hard not to look at his best friend. "Dumbledore doesn't think it would be prudent to leave Hogwarts and regardless of that, I'll be busy. Dumbledore wants me to maybe start my training again. I probably won't be allowed the leave the castle at all."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but Ginny sitting next to him nudged him. "I think," she said, "it is in the best interest of the—"

"Old Crowd," Harry supplied.

"—The Old Crowd," Ginny continued, "to not argue about where Harry will be for the holidays. Dumbledore must have his reasons. Anything could happen if they knew where Harry was."

Ron thought it over and nodded though not without the look of disappointment. "You will be stopping by though, right?" He asked suddenly.

"No," Harry said. "I don't want to endanger your family just because of this, and neither do I think that Dumbledore will let me go. It's better this way."

Ron rolled his eyes, but did not argue further from one look from his sister. She gave Ron one last warning glance before she looked around the common room. "Hey, Harry," Ginny said, looking around. "Where has Hermione gotten to? She's been gone since dinner. I hoped that she'd be back."

"She could be in the library," Harry said with a laugh. "When is she not? Why do you need her?"

"I just needed her to look over my Charms essay. I told Flitwick I left it in Potions. He said to get it to him before I leave. Hermione promised to look it over."

Harry flexed his hands together. "The library is your best bet. She was researching some potion earlier. I think she's positive that she can brew it right." He grinned at Ginny, "Knowing her, she's checking out as many books on it as possible for the break."

Ginny rolled her eyes and got herself more comfortable on the sofa. "I think I'll wait for her, then. Hopefully she won't come in too late."

Harry nodded.

"Up for a game of chess?" Ron asked.

"Alright," Harry said and summoned his chess pieces.

-

-

-

_December 21, 1996_

Harry watched Ron, Ginny, and Hermione climb into the carriages that would take them to the Hogwarts Express. He gave them a last wave and turned back into the school, heading to the dungeons. He had already taken everything he wanted for the holiday from his dorm down to his room in the dungeons. It was bound to be an interesting Christmas, Harry mused as he made his way past the Great Hall. He wondered if Snape would let him get a tree once they were back at his home. Probably not.

Harry stepped into Snape's rooms ten minutes later. Snape wasn't in his rooms, Harry knew. He was at a staff meeting—the last one of the year. They weren't going to leave until the next day, by which time Snape would have gotten everything in order.

Harry headed directly to his room and walked to the bag he had transfigured to fit the things he wanted to take with him to Snape's house. He reached into it and pulled out Snape's journal. He hadn't really read more than just another entry since the day he had found it. So he opened it to where he had last left the book and began to read about a teenage version of Severus Snape. It was strange to try and picture Snape as anything more than the Potions Professor he had always known, and reading from his point of view how Hogwarts was one of the strangest things that Harry had ever encountered.

Harry had only finished reading about Severus' attempt to ask his mother out when he heard the door open. Feeling a slight bit of pity for what his father had gone through, being ostracized by the Marauders, Harry got up, put the journal away and walked out of his room.

Snape was startled, for some reason, to see him. "You're here," he said with some measure of surprise.

Harry laughed. "Where else would I be? The Gryffindor tower is empty, as you well know."

Snape nodded and seemed to have gained his composure. He walked farther into the sitting room and towards his room. Harry had never been inside Snape's room. He had always thought it would be just a little strange to go into such a personal space of the man that, up until that summer, he had hated more than anyone save perhaps Voldemort.

Harry sat down, staring mindlessly at the fire and waited for him to come back. Snape reentered the sitting room and looked far more comfortable than before. Instead, he looked relaxed. He had a roll of parchment with him as well as two books, but even though he looked as if he was going to be working, Snape looked almost happy. Harry had the strangest feeling that something had happened. Something good and it had to do with the Order. He didn't want to ask, on the other hand. He didn't want to have Snape tell him that, when he needed to know something, he would be told.

Harry stood up and moved around the room. He sat down again, this time closer to the fire. This time last year he had been at twelve Grimmauld Place with Sirius, who had been singing Christmas Carols and decorating the house while Arthur Weasley was in the hospital, his wife and children worried sick about him. It hadn't been a terrible Christmas, if he didn't think about the fact that for a moment he had thought that he was dark, but then he had practically had Voldemort in his head most of the time. Harry shuddered and rubbed at his arms even though he wasn't cold. He hated thinking about the previous year. He looked at his left hand. He could still see the scar that he knew would always remain to remind him of Umbridge and the erroneous Ministry of Magic.

Harry continued to stare at his hand, willing the words to disappear. **_I must not tell lies_** blinked at him and mocked him. Harry shook his head and rubbed at his hand. He felt eyes on him and turned to look for Snape, but did not find him sitting where he had last been. Instead Snape stood directly next to him, looking at him strangely.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Let me see your hand," Snape said calmly.

Harry knew that Snape had seen his hands before, who hadn't see the mark of the blood quill on his hand? He showed it to him.

"I must not tell lies," Snape stated. "Who did this to you?"

"I didn't think you were unaware of what Umbridge used during her detentions," Harry said with a shrug. "This was my punishment for telling her that Voldemort was back last year. It was a blood quill. There are times when I should really mind my temper. I was just really frustrated with everyone. Dumbledore for keeping things from me, and I guess maybe Cedric's death, and just the Order, and then being forced to spend time with you. Everything was too much for me last year. I grew up, I guess."

Snape took his hand suddenly and stared at the scar. He then just as suddenly dropped Harry's hand and walked to his lab, calling, "Come along," as he went.

Harry followed Snape into his potions lab. Snape had brought out a gold cauldron and was setting it over a fire. Harry walked closer and stared at it. He had always wanted to use one, ever since he had seen one when getting his first cauldron.

"Why a gold cauldron?" He thought to ask. Now that he was more knowledgeable in potions, Harry understood that there had to be a difference in reactions depending on the kind of cauldron used for the potion.

"The gold cauldron will stabilize the base of the potion, while the normal cauldron will lead to a very volatile base which will not react well with the re'em blood."

Harry nodded, and said nothing as Snape walked to his private stores. When he returned Harry asked, "What potion are you brewing?"

"One of my own making," Snape said. "Albus and I realized that one day I would have to stop spying and that I would need to come up with a potion that would help with the pain of the Dark Mark. There is no way to rid myself of that mistake, you realize, but this potion when spread over the mark makes it bearable. It should, if I am not mistaken also rid you of the scar on your hand. It has been used that way before. It is also currently helping Lucius deal with his own Dark Mark."

Harry nodded. It made sense. He sat down next to the potion on the table, cross legged, and watched as Snape brewed. It was magic, watching Snape move from one ingredient to the other, watching him effortlessly brew, not even looking at any sort of instructions. He moved gracefully from one step to the next meticulously working on his potion.

Harry sat silently, watching him brew, and he suddenly understood the passion that his father had for potions. He had nothing like that. Once he would have said it was Quidditch, but it had dawned on him how unimportant the game was. What did he have that he loved above all else? His friends? But that wasn't the kind of thing he meant. Harry sighed.

"Anything the matter?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said. "How long will it take to brew?"

Snape dropped a few petals of some undistinguished flower before answering. "It will need to simmer now for fifteen minutes, and then I will add the last ingredient and it will be complete."

Harry nodded and got off the working table gently. Snape motioned for him to walk back to the sitting room. He went back to his books once they had reached the other room, and Harry once more took his place by the fire. A comfortable silence fell on them, only broken by the turning of a page, or the crackle of the fire. Fifteen minutes passed just as quickly as a second would have, and then they were back in the potions laboratory.

Snape added the last ingredient to the potion. Harry stood next to him, looking into the gold cauldron. The potion began to get thicker and changed color. It looked almost like a paste. His father grabbed a stirring rod and put it into the cauldron and began to stir counterclockwise. He stopped when the potion receded in thickness and instead looked like a cream. Then Snape waved his wand and had a small container in his hand. He piled the container and three more with the cream like potion and then vanished the contents of the cauldron before turning to Harry.

"Your hand," he said.

Harry extended out his left hand again. Snape caught his hand by the wrist and moved closer with one of the open containers with the cream. Slowly he began to dab some on his scar and Harry watched as it bubbled on his skin before the scar began to disappear.

"Thank you," Harry said, looking at his hand once the potion had ceased to bubble over his skin. Snape let him go and nodded. He then proceeded to continue cleaning his working space, taking two of the containers to his storage cupboards, but leaving one behind.

"I imagine it was about time I brewed this anyway," Severus said. "Lucius will be needing some soon. A Christmas present, if you will."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "You really don't like him sometimes, do you?"

Snape chuckled at that. "I didn't believe you liked him much better."

"Well, yes, but then I didn't know he was a spy. I always thought he was a Death Eater out to get me. And what about that, why did he give Ginny the diary if it wasn't on Voldemort's orders? Voldemort could have come back for all he knew!"

"I never understood that myself, Harry," Snape said. "Lucius later claimed that he didn't know what it was. I don't imagine he did at the time. He and the Weasleys have had a long feud, you understand, and that may have played a part in this. I do not have all the answers."

Harry nodded.

-

-

-

_December 22, 1996_

Harry woke up to the familiar smells of breakfast food. He slipped out of bed not bothering to put on the glasses that had been more of a hindrance to his vision than anything else, grabbed his slippers and walked out into the sitting room, crossing the room to the kitchen. Snape was already sitting at a small table, his daily morning paper open next to him as he ate. It reminded Harry of their summer and he couldn't help but feel that in some strange way he and Snape had almost come to be a family. That was preposterous however, Harry decided, and sat down shaking the thought from his mind.

"When will we be leaving?" Harry asked, as he helped himself to a piece of toast.

"After Mr. Malfoy has taken the floo home," Snape replied. "He asked to not go back on the Hogwarts express but instead use my floo. He said he wanted to leave before lunch."

Harry nodded and forced himself to not ask any more questions about Draco Malfoy. The younger Malfoy had been acting strange since they had gotten back to Hogwarts. He had stopped furthering the animosity that had always been present between them and sometimes had even attempted to be friendly, particularly during potions. He didn't mention any of this to Snape.

Harry spent the rest of the morning in his room reading. Snape had left soon after breakfast and had not yet come back. He had only told Harry that he was going to see Dumbledore, but clearly Snape had gone to do something else as well.

Harry had just closed the book Snape had given him about Parselmouths when he heard Snape exit the fire place.

"Are you packed, Harry?" He inquired from the sitting room.

"Yes," Harry called back and grabbed the few things that he had spread over his bed and put them in his trunk. "Are we leaving?" He walked out to the sitting room.

Snape nodded. "Get your things. We'll go through the floo." Harry went to grab his trunk, and levitated it out to the sitting room.

Snape threw floo powder into the hearth and motioned for Harry to go. Harry levitated the trunk next to him and taking a good hold of it called out his destination, and then he felt the familiar feeling of falling past numerous grates until he stepped out gracefully for once in a familiar office.

Snape stepped out momentarily, with only a bag slung over his shoulder.

Harry felt the start of an awkward moment. He shifted his feet and waved his wand at his trunk. Snape gave him a strained smile and turned to look at his office.

"I imagine I will be seeing you at dinner. I have to go to an Order meeting in an hour or so."

"Can't I come?" Harry asked.

"I would rather you didn't come to this one," Snape said. "It will not be about anything that you haven't heard already, added to this, you're supposed to be at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded.

"I'll tell you about everything later," Snape said to Harry's back as Harry left the room.

Harry gave another nod and then left the room wondering what he could do. During the summer, he had been focusing on his Occlumency for the most part and had been trying to learn as much about the subject as possible, but now he had nothing to do. He could of course continue reading Snape's journal which he had brought for that occasion specifically, but he didn't really want to sit and read. He wondered how much trouble he would get into if he decided to decorate the house. Harry smirked to himself. Yes. That was what he would do. He would start with getting a Christmas tree.

**Author's Note: **Nothing much to say this time around...just please review and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Questions of course are always welcome.

-Erika


	23. Legillimency

**Author's Note: **I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I remember it just flowing right out of me...but I'll add a bit more about that in the author's note at the bottom, also a question you should all answer...enjoy the chapter and thank you for all the reviews. This chapter was beta'ed.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty Three  
_**

_Legillimency  
_

_December 22, 1996_

"I cannot believe you," were Snape's first words after looking around the drawing room, flabbergasted. Harry had simply grinned at him.

"You have to admit," Harry added "I did a good job decorating."

Snape looked as if he could have growled, which made Harry laugh. "Look, I just thought we needed to have a more traditional Christmas seeing as it is our first, and I really wanted to see your reaction."

Snape did growl at that.

Harry laughed again. "It could be much worse," he pointed out.

"Alright, have your Christmas," Snape said. "Though it could have done without all the"—he took a moment to look around as if trying to find something to admonish Harry for—"are those grapes?"

"They look like grapes, but they're clusters of fairy lights," Harry said. "Those I made myself. I didn't mean for them to resemble grapes too much."

Snape simply shook his head, but he did not leave the room. Instead he took a seat. "I am glad at least you didn't do all of this in Gryffindor colors," he said and then opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when he noticed something. "They were Lily's," he told Harry. "The ornaments on the tree, that is. How did you manage to get them?"

Harry looked absentmindedly at the tree he had managed to find out on the grounds. "The attic, I had to see if you had anything just in case, and I found them."

"I wonder how they got here," Snape said. "They should have been destroyed with Godric's Hollow. Was there anything else up there?"

Harry nodded. "A bunch of boxes, I only looked at two. I brought the one with the ornaments and another with a bunch of muggle books down, but I didn't really look at the rest."

Snape frowned. "A trip to the attic is in order, I think," he said and stood up with a flourish, his robes billowing behind him as he walked out of the room.

"How do you do that?" Harry asked, quickly following after him. "I've been meaning to ask for a while now."

"Do what?" Snape asked.

"Make your robes billow like that. I've always wondered. Is it a spell? Is it the fabric, is it just the way you move? Just how does it happen?"

Snape turned and gave Harry an incredulous look, but did not answer the question and instead continued on to the attic. Harry followed, shaking his head. He would find out how Snape made his robes billow. He would, even if he had to force Veritaserum down Snape's throat to find out how.

Snape waved his wand at the light as soon as they started up the stairs to the attic.

-

-

-

_December 24, 1996_

It was the throbbing of his scar that woke Harry up. He sat up in bed and clutched his head before even thinking about strengthening his Occlumency walls so that he could get back to sleep. As Harry did so, trying to put away all sense of thought out of his head, he noticed that books were spread all over his bed along with a few rolls of parchment, quills, and luckily no ink bottles. He reached for his wand on his bedside table and waved it at his bed. All of his things were deposited on a desk on the other side of the room. Harry pushed his covers aside and slipped between his sheets, closing his eyes and glad that he had thought to change into his pajamas earlier when he had begun working on reading through the muggle books that he and Snape had found in the attic. They, like the ornaments, had belonged to his mother.

Harry yawned once and snuggled deeper into his bed before falling asleep once more. An hour or so after his head had hit the pillow for the second time, another disturbance awoke him. This time it was someone knocking on his door.

Harry shot up out of bed and walked groggily to the door. Expecting Snape to be behind the door, Harry nearly jumped when he saw that it wasn't Snape, but Lucius Malfoy that stood in front of him.

Harry hadn't seen the elder Malfoy since the Order meeting when he had learned that Malfoy was out of Azkaban, and seeing the man in a well groomed fashion brought back terrible memories of when he had believed Lucius to be out for his blood.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

Lucius didn't answer, but instead grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his room and down the hall. Harry pulled away. "Where the hell are you taking me?" Harry asked.

"There is no time to answer your inane questions, Potter," Lucius said. "I was instructed to take you to Headquarters and that is exactly what I am doing."

Harry nodded, knowing that something had happened. He could feel it in his very bones.

"You could have just said that much," Harry muttered to him and walked past him. "What's happened?"

Lucius didn't answer.

Harry rolled his eyes and walked to Snape's office. Lucius followed him. Harry grabbed the floo powder and threw it in the fireplace. He could feel Lucius' eyes on him as he stepped inside and shouted, "Twelve Grimmauld Place."

Harry stepped out of the fire in the kitchen of twelve Grimmauld Place mere moments later and wondered if he should wait for Lucius or go find out why he had been taken out of the place he was supposedly most safe in. After a moment's consideration, he walked to the door. As he was leaving the room, he heard Lucius stepping out of the fire as well. He said nothing to the blond man and instead continued out of the kitchen. He heard voices as he approached the drawing room and entered the room. He gasped when his eyes landed on Snape.

Snape was on the floor, a pool of blood next to him. A woman Harry had never seen looking blond and frail was at his side waving her wand and muttering to herself as she attempted spell after spell on him to no avail.

Next to her was Remus, who was dabbing at a large cut on his shoulder with some sort of ointment. Dumbledore was flipping through a book and sending worried glances at Snape every few seconds.

Harry stood looking at his father for a long time before he stumbled forward and fell to his side.

"What—what happened?" He demanded.

"There was a meeting today," Lucius answered from somewhere behind him. "The Dark Lord was not happy with the lack of information he was given, but I am afraid something else has happened."

"What?" Harry asked.

"We are not sure, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Lucius and I have both attempted to get any information out of him through Legilimency, but he has blocked both of us. There is a chance that you could get that information to us."

"Me?" Harry asked. "But how? If neither of you can do it…"

"You were trained by him," Dumbledore said. "He taught you how to close your mind. That leaves a link, one that I saw within his mind. He would subconsciously know that you mean him no harm and allow you to glean the information that we need about his wounds."

Harry nodded. "I've never done this before," He said. "I only know how to block my mind. He never went this far with me."

"Open your mind, Potter," Lucius said, "and then reach into his; it should not be too hard for you. You must touch his temples to anchor yourself better, but I have no doubt you will be able to do this."

Harry took a deep breath and got closer to his father. He reached with shaking hands for Snape's face and pressed his index fingers to either side of his face, and then he allowed his walls to fall, reaching out to Snape's mind. He felt a strange sensation, not a bad one but a rather strange one, and then he was standing before a wall of calming fire. He pushed forward and melted through the fire into his father's mind. He found the memory quickly enough and then he was there. He was Snape and he was standing in a circle of black clad Death Eaters.

"Severus," Voldemort hissed.

Harry stepped forward and knelt before his master.

"Get up, Severus," Voldemort said.

Harry stood up instantly. "Yes, My Lord," he muttered.

"Is there anything that you have to tell me, Severus," Voldemort said in a dangerous tone of voice.

Harry wanted to turn and leave the circle of Death Eaters, but he couldn't. This was his punishment for his deeds, for wanting to be one of them. He needed to atone his misdeeds.

"The Order has not discussed anything new, My Lord."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Nothing, you say, Severus."

"Nothing. They—they're waiting for a move from you, My Lord."

"Is that so, Severus?"

Harry nodded. He was trying hard to not give away that they had Faye. He could not let Voldemort see what big part he had played in her escape.

"Then why don't I believe you?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He cursed himself. He was getting weak. He should have been ready for a meeting, he should have known that Voldemort would be calling a meeting soon.

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort whispered, flicking his wand in a bored way.

Harry fell to the ground. He could feel pain running through his body, like needles stabbing into him over and over. He doubled over in pain. A scream escaped him and he convulsed on the ground. In the background, he could hear laughter from his fellow Death Eaters. The pain suddenly stopped, even though his body still throbbed with the remnants of the pain-causing Unforgivable.

"Ah, Severus, but I always thought you were my most loyal. I trusted you, Severus, but you helped her escape didn't you? I have her blood—at least you didn't stop me from getting what I needed. Oh, but you will pay, Severus."

Pain began again, all over his body. Harry couldn't help but scream. His eyes closed of their own volition. He grunted, and then screamed again when he felt something cut into his arm. A rock, he realized, when the pain was once more gone.

"You helped her escape. Why?"

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't. Not when he could still feel the throbbing pain in his entire body, in his arm where he could see his blood dribbling down his arm.

"Answer me!" Voldemort shouted.

Harry didn't know what he could say, how he could get out of more pain without giving out his alliances. He glimpsed around at his fellow Death Eaters. Draco Malfoy had become unmasked in all the commotion. His skin was pale and he looked as if he was going to be sick. Harry had no time to feel sorry for his student.

"Alright, then," Voldemort said. "MacNair, Avery, support him while I look into his memories of the day."

Harry cringed and pulled up as much strength as he could to fabricate something. He needed something, and fast. He couldn't let him see the conversation between himself and Dumbledore. He felt someone grab his arm and then the other. He slumped against them. He could almost see their sneers as Voldemort stepped forward and took his chin. And then there was pain within his mind as Voldemort entered.

Voldemort pushed him away when it was over. MacNair and Avery let him go, and he crumpled to the ground. Avery kicked him for good measure and walked back to his spot.

"I think it's time I tested that new spell you developed for me, Snape," Voldemort said. "You said there was no counter spell. That nothing could be done to the wound once it was made. Only Muggle methods will work on it now. And who would think to do that when you will not be able to tell them. To die by your own spell just for saving a Mudblood…I didn't think I needed to remind you that they are scum. Always the Mudblood lover, though. I didn't expect this from you, Severus."

Voldemort laughed a high cold laugh that sent shivers down Harry's spine, and then he pointed his wand at Harry, who felt even more blinding pain on his side. Blood began to cover his robes and he was gasping for breath.

"Wormtail!" Voldemort called.

The pudgy man that was nearly always at Voldemort's side ran to his Master and gave a bow.

"Give him a potion that will allow him to get to Spinner's End or Hogwarts, just enough so that I don't have to see him die in my presence, as enjoyable as that would be."

Wormtail nodded and Harry watched him walk away. Harry felt as if something were digging at his skin from the inside out. Pain filled him and the blood just kept on coming. There was nothing he could do but just lay there, he could barely even move. Everything was blurry and he could barely even see anymore. He felt someone grab his head and pour a potion down his throat. He could still feel the pain, but the groggy feeling had left him. He got up gingerly and walked out of the clearing. He heard their laughter behind him but couldn't care less. He needed to get to Grimmauld Place. He needed to alert Dumbledore. He needed to survive. He couldn't let Draco…

Harry reached into his bloodied robes and pulled out the galleon that served as a portkey. He tapped it with his wand and then felt the pull at his navel and then he arrived at Grimmauld Place. He grunted when he landed, wobbling. He fell to his knees.

"Lucius!" he managed to call, almost silently and then everything went black.

Harry pulled out of the memory, still shaken from what he had witnessed. He was breathing heavily and was almost as pale as Snape was. Harry shook himself. He felt someone's hand come to rest on his shoulder. It gave him a comforting squeeze and then it was pulled away. Harry took a deep breath and looked at Snape.

"He created the spell. It is meant to cause the wound he has, I guess, but nothing of a magical nature will fix it. Muggle methods, he said is the only way to help him. I think Voldemort means to lead to his death this way. He talked about it enough."

"Or to enough pain that even if Severus survives, Voldemort expects him to have been punished enough. He has done this often enough to others," Lucius put in.

Faye nodded as well as she put away her wand. "Alright, well, now that we know we can't use magic we should try to get this wound cleaned and bandaged."

Remus had finished with the cut on Snape's shoulder and turned to help her.

Harry felt Dumbledore's hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the Headmaster, who motioned for him to stand.

"Harry, you look in need of some rest, my boy. I will also have to view the memory you saw in Severus' memory. Nothing pressing, I hope?"

Harry shook his head. "All I saw was him getting hurt for rescuing someone. Nothing else."

"It can wait until morning, then. In the meanwhile, it would be best if you got some sleep. It doesn't look like you've had any at all on this night."

Harry barely nodded as he was steered out of the drawing room and up the stairs.

"I think a Calming Draught is in order, and maybe some Dreamless Sleep," Lucius said from somewhere behind him. Harry hadn't even been aware that the man was following them.

"Yes. I think you're right, Lucius," Dumbledore said and then called out, "Dobby!"

The house elf appeared with a small crack. "Yes, sir?" he asked in his squeaky excited voice.

"Go back to Hogwarts and fetch me a Calming Draught and a Dreamless Sleep potion from the infirmary," Dumbledore said to the elf.

Harry was barely paying attention anymore. He couldn't help but play out Snape's memory in his mind. The pain that he had been in, and yet he had been able to keep his mind hidden from Voldemort. He had been so strong. He had barely screamed though he had been in more than enough pain. Then he had even walked away and managed to leave the meeting even though the potion had been a great help, though it hadn't been nearly strong enough to allow him to Apparate like Voldemort had wanted him to do. Maybe Voldemort had wanted him to splinch on his way home. That would have made things worse.

Harry didn't even know how he would get to sleep with everything from the night plaguing him. He sighed. They reached the room he had shared with Ron the previous year. Dumbledore led him to bed and allowed him to slip between the covers. Dobby appeared next to the bed mere moments later and handed Dumbledore two potions.

"I don't think he needs a Calming Draught any longer. He seems stable enough," Dumbledore said. "Harry, I want you to take Dreamless Sleep, however, it would be best."

Harry nodded as he was handed the potion. He uncorked it and downed it before settling back in his old bed. He watched Dobby Apparate away, and Lucius motion for the Headmaster. The two of them left, closing the door behind them, and then Harry fell asleep.

-

-

-

"Did you see him?" Faye asked, breathlessly.

"I did," Lucius said.

"He is such a sweet boy. I've heard just so much about him, and to finally meet him. I wish it had been under better circumstances. He was just so wonderful. I thought he hated Severus! That he looked so worried over someone he doesn't care about...I just love his compassion. He should not have had his parents taken away from him."

Lucius nodded, though he said nothing.

Faye smiled gently at him and caressed his cheek. "Oh, you have nothing to say about him. Why?"

Lucius didn't answer.

"What is it, Lucius?"

"He hates Draco," Lucius finally put forth.

Faye laughed, the sound of her laughter putting a small smile across Lucius' face.

"Draco is a brat," Faye said. "That wife of yours doesn't know how to raise a child. You did no better!" She frowned. "I should have been in his life. Everything I hear about him it hurts me so much. No one seems to have anything good to say about Draco."

Lucius pulled her against him on the sofa they were sharing. "Draco wears a mask to the world. It is one of those things he learned to do over time. I had a role to play. I could not be the father I wanted to be. Draco grew up assuming that he had to be like the man I portrayed. Narcissa allowed him his childish pleasures and gave him everything he wanted because she felt I was too harsh on him, when what I did could have saved him from the mark if it hadn't been for his naiveté in all things concerning The Dark Lord. It is my fault alone that he is the way he is.

"No one knows Draco for what he truly is save for myself and perhaps Severus as his Head of House. There is a lot more to him that no one sees and yet he is not trusted because of his lack of subtlety."

Faye nodded against him. "I wish I could see him. He's not the baby I left behind anymore and I'm afraid—what will he think of me, Lucius?" She sighed sadly. "He'll hate me."

"Not when he knows the entire story," Lucius said. He rubbed comforting circles on her back. "It will all work out."

"Not if he kills Albus. After that I doubt we could save him. You've put too much of yourself in our boy."

Lucius didn't reply. Instead he dropped a kiss on her head and closed his eyes. He hoped nothing would happen to lead his son to murder. He hoped beyond hope that somehow Draco could be saved and taken from Voldemort's grasp on him.

"Lucius?" Faye whispered.

"Yes?" Lucius asked.

"Do you think," she said softly. "I don't know if anyone but me noticed, but do you think Harry looks like Severus? I mention it because when they were next to each other they looked so alike."

Lucius' eyes widened. "Yes. Now that you mentioned it, they do look quite alike. In fact, Harry Potter has changed quite a bit. What if—no, that wouldn't even be possible."

"What?" Faye asked.

"What if Severus was Harry's father," Lucius said. "He and Lily were very close during school, and at Order meetings then, in fact. I—could it be true? I wonder if they know."

"Surely they must," Faye said decisively.

"They hate each other even more than Harry and Draco hate each other. How many times have I heard Severus complain about Potter? They must not know."

Faye nodded slowly. "Oh, that poor boy," she said.

Lucius found that he couldn't disagree with her. He nodded his agreement. "Yes, poor boy."

**Author's Note: **So, someone is suspicious of Snape and Harry being related...two people are suspicious, but that wasn't the most important part of the chapter. I knew that Voldemort was going to hurt Snape over helping Faye escape, but I didn't actually want to write it...I didn't think I could get it just right. I knew it could go awfully wrong in many ways...so then I actually attempted to just ignore the entire scene and just go to when Snape was hurt...but then Lucius wanted to be the one knocking on Harry's door and then that brought on everything else and I think it came out better this way...

I started writing the sequel, by the way. I'm only a few pages into it but I have some idea of where I am going with it...so with any luck, I'll have that first chapter polished off and ready to be edited by the end of this week...

I also have a question for all of you...

While writing the first chapter I began to wonder about Severus and his love life (this is no big clue or spoiler to the fic or its sequel) and about him moving on from Lily. So what I want to know...is should he have some sort of love life? I'm very hesitant to write this at all because it could easily go wrong...but should Severus Snape have a love life?

Questions and comments are always welcome, please review!

-Erika


	24. Christmas

**Author's Note: **I thought this chapter came out great in my opinion. lol. I guess I'll address other things concerning this fanfic in the ending note...but first before I go off on a tangent, I will reply to two reviewers:

**Alex said: (Recent review for ch. 16) **

Objective is not used right in this context:

"She had been very objective to his even being in the house and out of Hogwarts"

Objective as an adjective means dealing with facts without letting personal feelings affect your judgement. It would be better to say that "She had objections to his even being in the house."

Imy is getting closer to a Mary-Sue. Having extraordinarily unique talents is one of the defining characteristics of a Mary-Sue. This is a good story and I would hate to see it ruined by a Mary-Sue. FYI, if she turns out to be the child of Snape or Voldemort (or any other major cannon character, really) she will have definitely crossed over the line, for me at least.

**My response: **I didn't notice the mistake and I guess neither did my beta, so thank you for pointing it out, hopefully I won't make it in the future once again. And once more we get to the subject of Imy, lol. I'm actually quite surprised it Imy you have chosen to look at as Mary Sueish...because I always kind of thought of Faye that way. And again I will point out that Imy at this moment is still very much a minor character and most minor characters are not well developed. There are a lot of things about her that have not come out into the open yet and won't until the sequel even. I like that you are concerned about the story being ruined by a Mary-Sue...but I can assure you that her ability to talk to snakes is rather important. I can also assure you that she is not Snape's daughter or Voldemort's (how scary would a child sired by Voldemort be?) and she's also not the daughter of any cannon character...in fact her home life will be very important and will give you something of what you're looking for in this character which would be her imperfections. In every scene that she's in so far in this story I know how perfect she seems and trust me in saying that there are a lot of people like her out in the world who hide everything that made them imperfect.

and now, to another review.

**Willow Angel Smith:** where is the next chapter i cant wait. this is an excellent story. i absolutely hate stories where snape is Harrys dad but this one. ou avtually got the feelings right and the hesitancy. How do you do that? i mean this is the best one that i have ever read about snape being Harrys dad. HOW LONG UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER?

**My Response: **Thank you. I'm so glad you think I got everything right...but really I didn't, lol. Sometimes when reading over parts of this fic as reference to something else I wonder if something Snape said or something Harry said was maybe just too much, but I guess I draw from personal experience with my own father. I did not live with my dad after the age of three until nine, so those six years in between were spent with my mom and my grandmother, and while I knew who he was, and I often talked to him on the phone and wrote him letters I didn't really know the man, I only knew what I barely remembered from when I was too young to really know better...so when meeting him again at the age of nine it was weird to think of him as my father and it took me just about forever to even start calling him "dad" and even to this day I find it completely awkward and it has been eight years since then, so I guess I know how Harry feels and I mean he is older than I was back then, so it must be harder. So I guess that covers the whole how do you do that bit...lol. As to updates. Generally on fridays...but as of recently on wednesdays, and on fridays or saturdays...but I will tell you right now that there won't be another update until saturday because I have midterms this coming week and I will be studying and obviously taking them and trying to relax a little bit.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty Four  
_**

_Christmas_

_December 24, 1996_

Harry woke up to someone watching him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized that it was the woman from the night before. She was sitting in a chair next to his bed, reading and watching him.

"Good morning—or rather afternoon," she said, looking at her watch.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, trying to not show how startled he was to have found her in his room.

"Just after one," she said, then, "You must be hungry."

Harry nodded absentmindedly and reached for his wand, but at once realized that he had left it in his room at Snape's house. He would have to go there and pick up a few things if he was going to be staying at Grimmauld Place. And then he remembered why he was in his room at Grimmauld Place. Snape was hurt. He had gotten hurt at a meeting—more like tortured—and Harry had seen it, felt it. Harry closed his eyes and then got out of bed.

"How is he?" He asked.

"Still hasn't woken up," The nameless woman said.

"Can I see him?" Harry asked next.

"He's in his room," she offered, then, "I'll get you something to eat, shall I?"

Harry nodded, and then before she had left asked, "What is your name?"

"Faye," she answered and left the room.

The woman that was at fault for Snape being so hurt, Harry thought. She was the one that Snape had rescued, hadn't she been? Harry shook the thought off and walked out of his room, his feet meeting the cold wooden floor. He hadn't noticed it the night before but now that he was paying attention to things, he also noticed that not only was the house clean but it felt lived in, so unlike when he had been there. Sirius might have enjoyed staying in the house had it been like this. Harry shook the thought and opened the door to Snape's room. He entered cautiously, wondering if Dumbledore had stayed with his father, or if he would find Lucius Malfoy, or maybe even Remus. No one was there, however.

Harry closed the door behind him and leaned against the door for a few seconds before he walked forward and sat down in a chair that was next to his bed. He couldn't look at him; instead he looked around the room. It was bare, completely and utterly bare. Then again, Snape hadn't used the room since the summer so Harry assumed it wouldn't be that way if he had still been using it daily. It was about the same size that his room in this house was, and had no windows. Harry's gaze returned to the sleeping Potions Master.

He was breathing steadily, which Harry knew was good, but he also looked too pale. Harry reached over and took his hand. It was cold. He said nothing, but just held his hand, giving himself comfort more than offering it to Snape. He sat like that for a few more minutes, just looking at him, then he heard the creak of the door being pushed open, and he withdrew his hand.

Faye stepped into the room and gave him a smile. She had a tray floating behind her and handed it to Harry.

"Lunch," she said, "seeing as you missed breakfast. I figured you'd want to eat here. I was unaware of any friendship between you and the Professor, but no matter. I wished to have met you under better circumstances, but there is a war going on and I guess most meetings are of this kind." She smiled again.

Harry merely nodded.

She walked around the bed and uncovered Snape. She looked at his bandages and seemed to determine that they were alright, because she covered him back up, once more offered Harry a smile and left the room.

Harry looked at his sandwich and brought it to his lips, taking a bite. It wasn't bad. He continued eating, not having realized just how hungry he was.

He had just finished his sandwich when he heard the door open again, and this time Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room.

"Potter," he said in a way of greeting.

Harry gulped down his pumpkin juice and nodded at him.

Lucius walked to Snape's other side and looked down at the Potions Master. Harry shifted slightly in his seat, watching him.

Lucius was still not back to his usual shiny self, but he looked better. It seemed that being in hiding agreed with him. Then again, Lucius was staying at Grimmauld Place where he wasn't suffering. No one was looking for him. Compared to what Sirius had gone through, what Lucius was dealing with was nothing.

Harry tried to ignore his thoughts on Lucius as he got up. He looked down at his clothes. He would need to go fetch his wand if nothing else from Snape's house. He walked out of the room silently, not garnering one look from Lucius Malfoy.

When he walked into the kitchen it was to find Remus, Tonks, Faye, and Bill Weasley. They were all discussing something, and stopped the moment that Harry entered the room.

"Just came to leave this here," Harry said, followed by. "I left my wand, shoes, and just a number of other things in my room at—" here he trailed off. "Well I can't say because of the Fidelius, I'm assuming. Anyway, I'll need to go there to get a few of my things."

Remus stood up. "I'll come with you. You're not allowed to leave the house by yourself and I am aware of the location."

Harry nodded and followed Remus to the fire. He stepped in and muttered his location after throwing in the floo powder. He arrived in the drawing room and waited for Remus. Remus came out mere moments later. He looked around the room, surprised.

"Yeah, I know, I'm surprised he let me keep them. I was waiting for him to come in and take them all down when I put them up."

Remus grinned at him. "Well come on, Harry, let's get anything you may need. I daresay you'll be spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place."

"Yeah. When is any holiday for me ever not interesting?" Harry laughed and led the way up the stairs.

-

-

-

Snape woke up later that night, right after dinner. Harry had been headed to the library when he passed his father's room and he heard a groan. Harry entered the room and found him awake, but in pain.

"You're awake!" Harry said.

"Obviously," his father drawled.

Harry turned. "I'll get Faye."

"No," he growled. "Come here, Po—Harry."

Harry frowned at the almost confusion of his name, but walked to Snape's side.

"You are not to get anyone but the Headmaster, do you hear me? I need to share with him the events of the meeting."

"Oh, you don't have to," Harry said. "I was going to the library now to put it all in a pensieve so he could watch it all."

Snape frowned. "You had another dream," he said instantly. "You dreamt the entire thing?"

"Not exactly," Harry said. "They were trying everything to stop the bleeding and to cure the wound. They just could do nothing about it, so Dumbledore tried to use Legilimency on you to get the spell that was used on your side. He couldn't get through to any of your thoughts, so Mr. Malfoy tried but it didn't work either, so they—"

"They used you," Snape finished for him.

"Lucius came to get me. He nearly made me jump out of my skin when he knocked on my door. But I came and I used Legilimency on you and I saw everything that happened to you. It was really painful too."

Snape chuckled. "Alright, then, Harry," he said "Get Faye if you must."

"She's the one that patched you up. I think she was the only one that knew how to deal with such a wound the Muggle way."

The memory of how he had gotten hurt seemed to come back to Snape so he cringed. "There is a spell that will fix the damage," he told Harry absentmindedly. "I don't quite remember it now. I must have written it somewhere."

"I'll go get her then, if you can't remember, she really must see that you're okay."

"Alright, go on," Snape said, even though he was too content to remain in his thoughts.

Harry left him and first walked to the library where Dumbledore was no doubt already waiting for him. He would allow Snape some time alone before he went to tell Faye that he was awake. First he would give Dumbledore the memory and while he was watching it he would go hunt up Faye.

Dumbledore was sitting b y the fireplace, in the exact same chair that he had been sitting in when he, Snape, and Harry had talked about Snape being Harry's father. Harry almost smiled at the memory. Snape had been acting so childish that night.

"Ah, there you are, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I have brought along my pensieve so we can view the memory."

"I actually would rather not," Harry said.

"Understandable," Dumbledore said.

Harry brought out his wand and touched his temple with it, bringing forth the memory of being inside Snape's mind. He pulled it out of his mind and dropped it inside the pensieve.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said and stood up.

"I'll leave you to watch it, then," Harry said.

Dumbledore said and did nothing to show he had heard Harry except to touch the pensieve and then begin viewing the memory. Harry walked out of the library and walked to Snape's room. He looked inside and noticed that Snape was now sitting up and reading a book without a care in the world. He did not look at all as if he had suffered any torture.

Harry entered the room. "Has Faye come by yet? I went to the Headmaster first so I haven't gone to find her."

"No, not yet, not that I need her coming to see me," Snape said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, well, I'll go get her anyway."

Snape made no move to show that he was discontent at the thought of Faye coming to check on him. Instead he turned the page of his book and continued reading.

-

-

-

_December 25, 1996_

Harry looked at the abundance of presents that sat underneath the tree that he had decorated in Snape's house. The corners of his mouth quirked into a smile; he could see presents from his friends. Hermione's neatly wrapped with a bow atop it, Ron's messily wrapped present, a small box with a bow from Neville, a tomato sitting atop a card with a brilliantly orange colored bow that could only be from Luna, a silver and green wrapped present that Harry knew was probably from Snape, a similarly red and gold present that was probably from Dumbledore, and some more presents, the owners' identity of which he couldn't quite tell. There were more presents, and Harry knew they were Snape's. He dropped the present that he had brought down with him for his father next to a bunch of others and then continued into the kitchen.

Breakfast was ready and waiting for him, courtesy of the Hogwarts house elves. There was also a tray that was meant for Snape. Harry picked it up, leaving his breakfast behind and walked out of the kitchen. He hadn't taken more than a few steps when he spotted his father walking towards him.

"You're out of bed," Harry said.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Snape asked, and even though he relied on a cane to walk, he looked at healthy as ever. "I did find the spell last night, you know. Just two more days and it will be as if nothing happened."

Harry shrugged. "I was going to bring you breakfast, but since you're here."

"Yes, since I am here," Snape drawled.

Harry turned on the spot and walked back to the kitchen, he heard Snape follow behind him.

"I think Lucius was suspicious of our relationship," Snape said. "He and Faye seemed very interested in anything to do with why you weren't wearing glasses. Lucius at first assumed you had simply forgotten them in the rush, like your wand."

"It wasn't exactly my fault," Harry said. "Mr. Malfoy practically pulled me down the hallway. At first I didn't even think about the Order needing me for anything, considering the way he was acting."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Lucius doesn't think sometimes. That is his problem. It's the reason he no longer serves the Order as a spy. If just a minuscule part of his brain served to keep his—ah, let's forget about Lucius bloody Malfoy."

Harry laughed. Snape shot him a half hearted glare. They ate the remainder of their breakfast in silence and then proceeded into the sitting room to open presents.

Harry sat on the floor and pulled the closest one toward him and Snape watched him with an expression that Harry had both never seen cross his face, and that he could not tell the meaning of.

Hermione had given him the expected book, surprisingly on potions. When Harry set it aside he noticed that his father was looking at it appreciatively. "I might have to borrow that, Harry," he said.

Harry laughed. "Hermione has a way with books," he said. "She knows exactly which ones hold the best information."

"No doubt because Miss Granger has read all of them."

Harry grinned. He knew it wasn't true, but he couldn't help but feel like Hermione had for a long time held the ambition of wanting to read all the books in the Hogwarts library.

Harry continued with his presents. Ron had given him candy, and also enclosed within the package from Ron was his usual sweater from Mrs. Weasley as well as homemade fudge. Neville had given him a plant of all things, which Snape took right out of his hands and began to examine.

"Of all the things," Snape breathed. "Why, Longbottom has finally done something right." He cupped the plant almost caressingly as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Harry coughed to stifle the laugh that had threatened to escape him and Snape glared at him before turning his gaze on the plant, upon which it gentled, almost as if his very glare could make the thing disappear.

Harry didn't know what to say, and didn't think he could stop himself from laughing, so instead he turned away from Snape and back to the rest of his presents. He tried really hard to ignore the fact that he could hear Snape almost mumbling something to the plant, as if it could hear him. Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes he only wanted to be around the man for moments like these.

Harry opened the present from Dumbledore next and found to his amusement green fluffy socks. He put those aside, and took one of the nameless presents. It was from Remus and Tonks. Harry tore the wrapping aside. He found a planner. Harry laughed. He didn't exactly need one, but it was perfect nevertheless. He put it on top of his new socks and grabbed another present. It was from Draco Malfoy of all people. Harry wasn't sure if he should even open it. What could Draco want with giving him a present? Lucius Malfoy, he would have accepted something from—even that would have been rare—but Draco?

"Draco Malfoy's sent me a present," Harry said to Snape.

"Did you open it?" Snape asked.

Harry shook his head.

"Good. Let me check for anything harmful to you in this, not that everything wasn't checked before, but you never know with the Malfoys."

Harry passed it over, and then grabbed his last present. It was from Snape. He fingered it and began to unwrap it, wondering what Snape could possibly give him.

"It's clean," Snape said. "No potions or spells. Nothing meant to harm you."

Harry nodded and took back the present from Draco. He ignored Snape's and opened that one first. It was a phoenix figurine. Harry frowned at it and set it down next to the socks and gasped when it flew into the air, around his head. In landed on the table and did not move again.

"Draco has always had a way with magic," Snape said.

Harry shrugged even though he knew it was true for the most part. He had noticed Draco's affinity for magic throughout the years. He mastered certain spells almost instantly, even though Harry had noticed that Draco was not at all good at Transfiguration or for that matter Defense. He was on the other hand good at Charms.

Harry turned back to his last present and opened it just as slowly as before. He found to his surprise that rather than anything that would help him in school, or that would help him defeat Voldemort, what was inside the wrapping was a picture frame. It was blank at the moment, but when Harry picked it up he was surprised to see Lily Potter appear on the frame. She smiled at him and waved.

"Mum," Harry whispered.

"I wasn't sure if you had any pictures of her. I'm sure you do, but I thought you'd like this. It was taken right after she found out she was pregnant with you. She was so happy."

Harry smiled faintly. "Thank you," he said.

Snape nodded and brought out his wand and levitated his own presents toward s himself. Harry watched his as he opened one from Dumbledore which contained socks, like Harry's, but unlike Harry's, Snape's gift contained a bag of what appeared to be lemon drops. Snape glared at them and then set it aside, ignoring Dumbledore's idea of the perfect gift for the Potions Master.

Harry watched him open the next present, this time from Professor McGonagall. Harry wouldn't have expected him to receive something from the strict Head of Gryffindor. It was of course a book, surprisingly on Quidditch.

"I might have to borrow that one sometime," Harry said.

Snape rolled his eyes at him but did not comment.

Harry found that watching Snape unwrap presents was interesting. He would do each one in a specific way, making sure that once he was done the wrapping paper was not ripped at all and instead folded in half. Harry almost rolled his eyes each time he did so. By the end of it, his father had a pile of books, socks, lemon drops, a strange glass sphere with strange markings that Snape had looked at impressively before he wrapped it back up in the bag it had come from and he said nothing about it. Harry eyed it for a moment, but decided that it was best he ignored it if Snape didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm surprised you found this," Snape said to Harry. "It's very rare."

"Really? I found it in Sirius' room. I thought you'd like it. I actually had bought the tea for you already, when I found it and then I thought you would be the perfect person to give it to."

Snape nodded and then moved to once more pick up the plant.

"You can have it, you know. I wouldn't know what do with it. You seem to have already found some use for it."

"Thank you, Harry," Snape said. "In the spring when it flowers, I will manage to get a number of seeds for the Wolfsbane. It is the seeds in this flower that are so hard to come by that make the potion so expensive. I have not had the great luck in ever finding it, and yet Longbottom does."

"Like Hermione has a way with books, Neville has a way with plants. He may have grown it himself and felt that I would appreciate it for some reason." Harry rolled his eyes. "He tries sometimes to make others appreciate his passion when most of the time we don't care much about it. Herbology never interested me."

"Yes, clearly," Snape said.

Harry laughed. "I'm going to take this all upstairs. Are we doing anything today?"

"Walking," Snape said. "I thought you could join me. We can work on a few spells as well. We haven't done enough of it."

"We would be, if it wasn't for the fact that you rearranged my schedule to your liking," Harry said.

Snape snorted. "It did us no good for you to be so tired that at every one of our sessions you were sleeping, or you hurt yourself because you were not up to your usual alertness."

"Alright. I guess I was doing too much. I still feel as if we should work more on this. It is important."

"Yes, very important, almost as important as your meetings with Dumbledore. You will be having one of those on the first day back, just so you know, right after dinner."

Harry nodded and stood up. "I'll just go get my coat then, if we're going for a walk."

"Quickly, Harry!" He called as Harry ran up the stairs.

Harry grinned. Christmas with Snape had not been that bad. In fact it hadn't been bad at all, and now they would start working once more on his training which he had missed greatly.

**Author's Note: **I had a long and hard week most of which I don't want to even bring into fanfiction right now, because coming online and going to my mail and reading all of the reviews you guys have given me has cheered me up all week...especially yesterday so thank you guys!

Alright, so this is the chapter before everything changes. The next eight chapters were all written during Christmas Break and they just came out one after the other. So after ch. 25 everything becomes fast paced until we reach ch. 32 or 33. So just a warning as to what is to come...but after this chapter the fanfic really started to feel as if it was no longer just the beginning.

I do have midterms this coming week starting on Tuesday with my English Midterm which I am truthfully not worried about at all because I think I know everything that will be on it...and part of it is writing a story which is my forte so other than my Algebra, and my History test I think I will be fine in everything else, even chemistry.

So I will most likely update on Saturday depending on the time I get home...either way enjoy the chapter...please review and of course questions are always welcome. I really enjoyed hearing from all of you about Severus' love life...or lack thereof.

-Erika


	25. Horcruxes Part 1

**Author's Note: **Ah, I finally got to update...lol...midterms weren't that bad...I think I actually did alright on all of them, and just one left on monday because we had a snow day wednesday. meh. Anyway, thank you for all the reviews, you guys are great...enjoy the chapter

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty Five  
_**

_Horcruxes (Part 1)_

_January 3, 1997_

Harry stepped out of the fire in the Headmaster's office, where Snape had sent him as soon as they had gotten ready to return to Hogwarts, claiming that it was the first thing Harry had to do before he did anything else. Harry had been planning on having a last minute rest before the students arrived for dinner that night. After all, his lesson with Dumbledore hadn't been scheduled until after dinner that night. That, however, didn't seem to stop them from rescheduling things without telling him. Harry knew he was being just a tad but childish; after all, Dumbledore was working hard for the Order, helping Harry, even, and he probably wouldn't have time to have a lesson with Harry after dinner.

Dumbledore was not in his office, however, when Harry came out of his fire. Harry took his time to look around, even though he was quite used to the Headmaster's office—probably better used to it than any other student at Hogwarts.

Harry walked forward and noticed a baby Fawkes, just reborn from the ashes. Phoenixes were interesting creatures. Burning out and then coming to life again, starting a second life or a third—like getting a second chance. It symbolized rebirth. Everything would have its peak, it would fall, but in time it would once again begin. Evil was such a thing even though, Harry mused, nothing was really ever truly evil—things became evil. Voldemort would not be the last Dark Lord, there would be others, and there would be others like Harry, meant to destroy them. It was a vicious circle and would continue in that manner until the hero became the villain and everything was turned on its axis. Harry sighed and reached a hand to the phoenix, stroking his head with one finger. Fawkes crooned and closed its eyes.

"Ah, you're here, Harry," Dumbledore said from behind him. "I was quite distracted by a new confection. Your father makes the most interesting candy, I must say. You should ask him to make you some. He always creates some for myself every Christmas. Alas, he never makes them ever again. Peculiar man, your father, but we aren't here to talk about him. I do believe we have something else that needs to be done, yes?"

Harry nodded, noticing that Dumbledore seemed awfully chipper. He wasn't at all like the last time he had seen him, looking worriedly through a book for Snape's sake. Maybe Snape had slipped something into whatever candy he had given him and it made him act entirely too happy. Harry decided not to wonder on it and let things be.

"So," said Dumbledore when Harry did not manage a reply, "we continue with learning about the life of one Tom Riddle. Last time we were within this room we discussed his going to Hogwarts. As you know, he attended Slytherin house. I'm not sure if he gleaned knowledge of Salazar Slytherin's ability to speak to snakes that very night or some day after, but it must have increased his self-importance.

"Most professors were quite impressed with him, you know. He was a talented and very good-looking orphan. Naturally, he gained the sympathy of the staff; it of course helped that he seemed polite, quiet, and was thirsty for knowledge."

Hearing about Voldemort in such a way made Harry almost cringe. He sounded almost like a mixture of himself and Hermione. Harry almost outwardly shuddered at the thought.

"But you know how he was. He—the Tom from the diary, I mean—he said you never trusted him. Did you not tell the other professors about how he was when you first met him?" Harry asked, shifting in his chair.

"Alas, Harry, I did not. I always felt that he could have easily felt regret for what he had done. I also will admit that it was perhaps my way of hoping that Tom would do right by his life. I did, however, decide to keep a close eye on him. He was very guarded with me from the start and did not attempt to charm me quite like he had done to my colleagues. I think he feared I would discover his true character.

"As he moved on in school he began to gather a group of friends about him—I say friends, but I'm afraid that none of them were really ever that close to him, for him to call them his friends. They were a strange motley collection. Some seemed to act as the weak seeking protection, others were the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and then the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty—"

"They would become his first Death Eaters," Harry said with realization.

"Yes, my boy, that they would," Dumbledore said. "They were all rigidly controlled by Tom. None of them, however, ever came under suspicion for anything during their years at Hogwarts, though they were linked with less than satisfactory incidents, the worst of which was the opening of The Chamber of Secrets. But no one would believe they had much more to do with it than they appeared. As you know, Hagrid was wrongly accused of that crime. Many others were wrongly accused of others. However, none of those crimes involved murder other than this solitary one.

"You must understand, Harry, not one is willing to talk about Tom's Hogwarts years. Everything I have garnered for us has been through the convincing of many people, but I have no memories of any events of his life within this castle. Those that knew him well enough and were willing to talk all agreed, however, on the fact that Tom was obsessed with his parentage. Understandable, of course—and I see this as the reason for his change of name. Upon learning his father was a muggle, he must have adopted the new title readily. And now I do have a memory to share with you, Harry."

Harry stood.

Dumbledore levitated his pensieve towards them and settled it on the desk in front of him.

Harry went first and fell into the memory. They were once more in the Gaunt house. It took him a moment to recognize the man sitting in an armchair by the fire; once he did he realized that he was Tom Riddle's uncle. He jumped awake at a knock on his door and rose to open the door.

Harry watched as Tom Riddle stepped into the room. Morfin seemed to assume that Riddle was his father and for a moment looked confused before telling him to leave.

"Stop."

Riddle spoke Parseltongue. Morfin skidded into a table, sending moldy pots crashing to the floor. He stared at Riddle. There was a long silence while they contemplated each other. Morfin broke it.

"You speak it?"

"Yes, I speak it," said Riddle.

Harry watched him move forward, he couldn't help but feel a resentful admiration for Voldemort's complete lack of fear. His face merely expressed disgust and, perhaps, disappointment.

"Where is Marvolo?" he asked.

"Dead," said the other. "Died years ago, didn't he?"

Riddle frowned.

"Who are you then?"

"I'm Morfin, ain't I?

"Marvolo's son?"

"'Course I am, then…"

Morfin pushed the hair out of his dirty face, the better to see Riddle, and Harry saw that he wore Marvolo's black-stoned ring on his hand.

"I thought you was that muggle," whispered Morfin. "You look mighty like that muggle."

"What muggle?" said Riddle sharply.

"That muggle that my sister took a fancy to, that muggle that lives in the big house over the way," said Morfin.

Harry watched Morfin tell Voldemort about his parents—Voldemort didn't even seem to mind the names Morfin called his mother or father, in fact he seemed to almost agree with his uncle. And then it went dark.

Dumbledore took Harry's elbow and pulled him back to the present.

"Was that all? Why did it go black?"

"That is all that Morfin could remember, I'm afraid. When he awoke next his ring was gone and a maid in the village of Little Hangleton was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father."

"Voldemort killed them, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "And yet, Morfin admitted to his crimes when questioned by Aurors that same day. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban. I believe it is still quite talked about in Little Hangleton—the murder of three people who were in very good health with no signs of any maladies except that they were dead."

Harry thought it over. "Then this is Morfin's real memory. But didn't the Aurors realize once they saw this?"

"But, there you are my dear boy, they did not see this. Even though many Aurors are skilled at Legilimency, they would not have bothered after a full confession from the perpetrator. It just would not have been done. This memory I took from him through skilled Legilimency that not only required many hours, but many _tiring_ hours."

"Didn't the Ministry detect the magic that Tom used on Morfin, though?" Harry asked, an idea coming into his mind. "I mean, he was underage. He didn't look much older than when he was in the dairy."

"Ah, but the ministry could not have traced his magic—the Ministry can very well detect magic, but not who has done the magic. Take what happened to yourself before your second year; Dobby was the one using magic, yet you were the one blamed."

It suddenly dawned on Harry. "Then, if you're inside the house of an adult witch or wizard, you can do magic. It wouldn't really matter, would it? The Ministry wouldn't be able to tell. That is completely unfair in my opinion."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Many might feel so, but the Ministry trusts the parents to not allow their children to break such rules."

And Harry knew it was true. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would never have allowed any of their children to do magic at home before they turned seventeen, but then on the other hand Lucius Malfoy would have allowed Draco to use his magic whenever he wanted. Harry sighed.

"Harry, however much I would enjoy continuing this conversation. I have one more memory to share with you and we best be getting underway. I daresay dinner will be starting in only an hour."

Harry nodded, not having thought about time, and how much of it they had already used up.

"It was harder to get anything on Voldemort after he left Hogwarts. As hard as it was to get anything out of him when he attended here, it was a much harder goal to achieve to gather any information on Riddle. After a failed attempt at acquiring a teaching position here as soon as he left school, Riddle began to work at Borgin and Burkes."

"He wanted to be a Professor here?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I rather like to think that he did not want to leave the one place that he felt most at home, and more to that as a Professor, Riddle would have the power to mold young minds in whatever form that he wanted." Dumbledore chose that moment to pick a lemon drop, but he did not pop it into his mouth and instead continued: "I was not Headmaster when he first petitioned for the job, but I was very weary of him remaining at Hogwarts and I advised Professor Dippet t hat Tom was too young and would need a few more years out in the world before this job could become available.

"I think Tom knew it was my interference that lost him the job, but he nevertheless left to work for the store. Many of his former teachers felt it was a waste for such a brilliant boy like him to do such a job, but he was much more than just an assistant. His charm, after all, was a great asset to Borgin and Burke. And now we must go into the pensieve once more to the memory of Hokey, a house elf owned by Hepzibah Smith. After you, Harry."

They went into the pensieve once more. This time it was to the sitting room of an immensely fat old lady, who was wearing an elaborate wig and a brilliant set of pink robes. She was talking—or rather ordering a house elf around, telling her what she needed. They were obviously awaiting a guest.

Harry looked around and waited, and then the doorbell rang and the house elf went to bring in their guest. It came back a few seconds later with Tom. He looked more handsome than ever. Hepzibah seemed more than charmed by Tom and squealed when he handed her the flowers that he had seemingly brought her.

Harry watched attentively as they had tea and cakes. It seemed like a normal afternoon. Nothing should have gone wrong with any of it. Had Harry not known who he was watching interact with the old lady, the memory would have seemed to be of a nice young man who liked entertaining an old woman that had a fancy for him.

After a few minutes they got down to business.

"Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?" She asked, batting her eyelashes.

After a quick explanation, Hepzibah exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!" followed by, "I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it?"

She said something more about it, garnering Tom a promise to keep the item secret.

The elf handed her two boxes which she set down on her lap. "I think you'll like this, Tom…Oh, if my family knew I was showing you…They can't wait to get their hands on this!"

She opened the first box. Harry edged forward to get a better view and saw what looked like a small golden cup with two finely wrought handles.

She gave Voldemort permission to pick the cup up and examine it closely. Harry thought he saw a red gleam in his eyes as he looked at it, and then murmured. "A badger," he examined the engraving upon the cup closer. "Then this was…?"

"Helga Hufflepuff's, as you very well know, you clever boy!" said Hepzibah, "Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended?"

When she took it back, intent on putting it back in its box, she missed the shadow that crossed Voldemort's face, but Harry saw it before Voldemort threw on a mask to hide his true feelings.

After the elf took the cup away, Hepzibah's attention went to the much smaller, flatter box that remained.

"I think you'll like this even better, Tom," she whispered. "Lean in a little, dear boy, so you can see….Of course, Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone…."

She slid back the fine filigree clasp and flipped open the box. There upon the smooth crimson velvet lay a heavy golden locket.

Voldemort reached out his hand, without invitation this time, and held it up to the light, staring at it.

"Slytherin's mark," he said quietly, as the light played upon an ornate serpentine S.

She reached out to take the locket back after a few seconds. For a moment, Harry thought Voldemort was not going to let go of it, but then it had slid through his fingers and was back in its red velvet cushion. There was no mistaking the flash of red in his eyes this time as he looked at the now closed box.

There was a moment during which Hepzibah looked concerned at Tom, until he shook her off, and then Harry felt Dumbledore's hand on his elbow again, and once more they left the pensieve.

"She died two days after that little scene," said Dumbledore once they had settled back down into their chairs. "Hokey was convicted for poisoning her mistress by the Ministry. She admitted to putting something that was not sugar in her mistress' cocoa."

Harry was outraged but even in his mind he could fit in all the details. Hokey was a house elf and like Morfin, Voldemort had messed with her mind and the ministry had accepted that the house elf was old and that she was a suspect simply for being a house elf. Voldemort knew just how to not get in trouble.

"By the time Hokey had been convicted, Hepzibah's family realized that Hepzibah's greatest possessions were missing, but by the time this was fully proven, the assistant from Borgin and Burkes was gone. Not even his superiors knew where he had gone to. And now, there are two more memories left, Harry.

"Now," said Dumbledore, "if you don't mind, Harry, I want to pause once more to draw your attention to certain points of our story. Voldemort had committed another murder; whether it was his first since he killed the Riddles, I do not know, but I think it was. This time, as you will have seen, he killed not for revenge, but for gain. He wanted the two fabulous trophies that poor besotted, old woman showed him. Just as he had once robbed the other children at his orphanage, just as he had stolen his Uncle Morfin's ring, so he ran off now with Hepzibah's cup and locket."

"But," said Harry frowning, "it seems mad….Risking everything, throwing away his job, just for those…"

"Mad to you perhaps, Harry, but to him they meant a lot. You will understand in due course exactly what they meant to him, Harry. The locket he must have seen as rightfully his."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "The locket maybe, but the cup?"

"It belonged to another of Hogwarts' founders," Dumbledore told him. "I think he felt a great pull toward the school and that he could not resist an object so steeped in Hogwarts history. There were other reasons, I think….I hope to be able to demonstrate them to you in due course.

"And now for the next recollection. Ten years separates Hokey's and this one. Ten years during which we can only guess at what Lord Voldemort was doing…."

"Whose memory is it?" Harry thought to ask, as he once more got to his feet.

"Mine," Dumbledore said, and as before motioned for Harry to go first.

This memory was much shorter than the others, and they got through it quickly. They were once more in Dumbledore's office in the memory, though this time a younger Dumbledore sat behind the desk, and upon the knock on his door, he called, "Enter."

Harry could not help the gasp that escaped him when he saw who entered. It was unmistakably Tom Riddle, but he was no longer the handsome young man that he had seen in the last memory. His features were not quite what they would be when he emerged from the cauldron two years previous, but they were closer to that than the handsome beloved student. He was not yet snakelike, and his eyes were not scarlet, and the face was not masklike, but he was so close to being that that Harry could not even think of him as the same man in the last memory he had viewed.

"Good evening, Tom," Dumbledore said easily. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you," Voldemort said, and he took the seat to which Dumbledore gestured—the very seat, by the looks of it, that Harry had just vacated in the present. "I heard you had become Headmaster," he said, and his voice was slightly higher and colder than it had been. "A worthy choice."

They continued for a few minutes with pleasantries. Dumbledore offered Tom a drink which Tom took, and then after a few minutes, Dumbledore asked, "So, Tom…to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Voldemort didn't answer at once and instead sipped at his drink. "They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said. "These days, I am known as—"

"I know what you are known as," said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. "But to me, I'm afraid you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings."

The atmosphere in the room changed slightly, even Harry could feel the change. Dumbledore's refusal to use Tom's new name was a refusal to allow Voldemort to dictate the terms of the meeting, and Harry could tell that Voldemort took it as such.

Voldemort changed the subject, then, talking about Dumbledore and his reasons for not leaving the school. Harry had wondered that himself back in his first year after Hagrid had spoken of Dumbledore not wanting to become Minister of Magic, even though enough offers had been there, and then the topic changed again.

"I have returned," Tom said, "later, perhaps, than Professor Dippet expected…but I have returned, nevertheless, to request again what he once told me I was too young to have. I have come to you to ask you permit me to return to this castle, to teach. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place. I could show and tell your students things they can gain from no other wizard."

Harry almost snorted. Wasn't that right; no one could learn how to use the Dark Arts better than if they had been instructed by Tom Riddle himself.

Harry watched Dumbledore and Tom interact for a while longer about what Tom had been doing for the past few years, and the rumors of his Death Eaters. Dumbledore was shoving information at Tom about everything that Voldemort must have been sure Dumbledore didn't know. And then they got to the mettle of things.

"Let us speak openly," Dumbledore said. "Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?"

Voldemort looked coldly surprised. "A job I do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."

"Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not want to teach any more than you wanted to when you were eighteen. What is it you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once?"

Voldemort sneered. "If you do not want to give me a job—"

"Of course I don't," said Dumbledore. "And I don't think for a moment you expected me to. Nevertheless, you came here, you asked, you must have had a purpose."

Voldemort stood up. He looked less like Tom Riddle than ever, his features thick with rage. "This is your final word?"

"It is," said Dumbledore, also standing.

"Then we have nothing to say to each other."

"No, nothing," said Dumbledore, and a great sadness filled his face. "The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom….I wish I could…."

Voldemort's hand twisted toward his pocket and his wand, Harry was sure that he was going to do something, but then the moment had passed, Voldemort turned away, and then the door was closing behind him and he was gone.

Dumbledore's hand closed over Harry's arm again and they were once more in his office, though this time in the present.

"Why?" Harry asked at once. "Why did he come back? Did you ever find out?"

"I have ideas," said Dumbledore, "but no more than that."

"What ideas, sir?"

"I shall tell you, Harry, when we have viewed the last memory."

Harry nodded. "He came for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post again, didn't he?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "The proof of that is that we have not been able to keep a Professor for that subject for more than a year since I refused the post to Lord Voldemort."

Dumbledore looked at his watch. "I was sure we could fit it all in, but no matter. Dinner is, I believe, starting in five minutes."

Had it been an hour already? But Harry wanted to know what Dumbledore's ideas were. He was burning with curiosity.

"I'm afraid we will have to continue this after dinner," Dumbledore continued. "It is why I asked you here earlier, Harry. I feared we would be up all night doing this and with classes tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "Alright, then," Harry said. "Dinner."

Harry turned to walk to the door.

"I rather think you should get your glasses before you leave, Harry, for that would open things into further discussion."

"Right," Harry said. "Can I use your floo, sir?"

"Certainly."

Harry nodded and grabbed a fistful of floo. He threw it in the fire and called out, "Professor Snape's rooms!"

**Author's Note: **Hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter. I know it was basically the same as HBP, but I felt as if this part and of course next chapter had to actually be in the story. I did change a few things...and omitted others...anyway hope you like it. By the way I just finished writing the first chapter for the sequel a couple of days ago and it's looking good. lol. Questions are always welcome. Please review.

I think I'll be updating wednesday

-Erika


	26. Horcruxes Part 2

**Author's Note: **So, another chapter...and this one is basically the same as the last one...but things will be picking up soon...thanks for all the reviews and enjoy the chapter.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**Beta: **JulzPadfootMoony

**_Chapter Twenty Six  
_**

_Horcruxes (Part 2)_

_January 3, 1997_

Harry stepped out of the fireplace and removed the soot from his robes before walking to his room. His glasses were sitting on his bedside table. He grabbed them, but didn't put them on. Instead he walked out of his room, back to the sitting room, and then proceeded to Snape's lab.

"Was my stuff sent up to Gryffindor tower?" Harry asked.

Snape raised his hand, telling him to wait. He was muttering under his breath, counting his stirs, Harry decided. After a moment, he lifted his head and regarded Harry. "Has your lesson with Dumbledore finished already?"

"No, but dinner is in a few minutes. He didn't think it would be wise to skip the first meal since before the break. People would talk. I came to get my glasses. Professor Dumbledore and I will be continuing after dinner. He has one last memory for me."

Snape nodded. "Your house elf friend took everything back to your rooms. It interested me to see that there was something in your possession I wasn't aware of."

Harry shifted his feet and asked, "What was that?"

"A journal," Snape said, "my journal."

Harry let out a nervous laugh. "Well—it was in the box."

"What box?"

"The one that mum and James sent me. James said, well in the letter, that you wanted me to have it so I could understand you better. Is that not true?"

Snape didn't answer at once, but instead waved his wand at his potion, and then slowly turned back to Harry. "I don't know," he said "Maybe I did want you to have it."

"I thought you got all the memories back."

Snape sneered at him. "That doesn't quite mean that I remember telling either of those two that I wanted you to have it. Have you read it all?" He looked almost worried that Harry had.

"No. Only the first few entries, I didn't have enough time. It was strange, reading about you as someone my age."

"Yes, well," Snape said. "I have confiscated it. You do not need to know anything that is in that journal. Anything you need to know I will tell you if you care to ask."

Harry nodded. He didn't want to fight him about this. "We should really get going to the Great Hall."

"Yes, we should," Snape agreed.

-

-

-

The other students were just entering the Great Hall when Harry got there. He had just made it through the door when he felt arms wrap around his waist. He looked down and found Imy.

"Oh, I loved the book, Harry!" She said. "I didn't know you were getting me anything. I would have gotten you something."

"No worries," Harry said. "Come on, we should head to the table."

She nodded. Harry led her to the Gryffindor table, his thoughts straying to what Dumbledore's last memory would be. What would it tell him? Would it be far more important than the rest? Harry couldn't wait to appease his curiosity on the matter. Why were the things he had stolen from Hepzibah so important?

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed when she spotted him, and she rushed towards him and Imy.

"How was your holiday? I hope you got my present. I thought you'd like it. There's this whole section on the Felix Felicis! I did some research on it, you know. I wanted to go to Sirius' house to use the library but Mrs. Weasley said it was being used and no one could go by. I wonder what they're using it for. Do you know? Anyway, I had a great break myself."

Harry smiled at Hermione, but said nothing and let her continue talking.

"I did find quite a bit in the books I did have available. The Twins tried to hide it from me many times, but you know me and my books. I think I can brew it, Harry! I mean, I did the Polyjuice Potion, how much harder could this be?"

Harry sighed. "You do realize that it will take about a month, and that this potion requires you to add ingredients at the most inopportune moments? You'll be up at all hours of the day; you'll have to miss classes."

Hermione seemed to have a way around that, too. "Not if you and Ron, and someone else help. I just need to see your schedule. See if I can figure it all out none of us will really suffer."

"If you can figure out a way, Hermione," Harry said, "I'll help, but you need to have a schedule that fits with everything else. Quidditch practice, my nights with Snape, my apprenticeship; everything…otherwise I can't help you."

"Thank you!" Hermione squealed.

Harry nodded and allowed himself to smile at her.

"She's told you, has she?" Ron asked, sitting down. His arm was around Lavender's waist and she was smiling all around.

Harry couldn't help but notice that Ron too seemed happy. He was glad for his friend and for Lavender. They were perfect for each other. He smiled at them and couldn't help but feel the slight stirring of jealousy for what Ron had. He shook himself. He knew he couldn't, not when he could very well die at Voldemort hands; when he could become a murderer himself.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Harry said. "Just remembering something."

"What?" pressed Hermione.

"Nothing important," Harry said and found himself Occluding his mind even though he knew Hermione would not be able to read his thoughts.

Hermione harrumphed and turned away as if offended. Ron, across from Harry, rolled his eyes. Harry smiled faintly. He hadn't told them about the Prophecy. He knew he would have to eventually and yet he didn't know if he could burden them with that knowledge…and what if what Dumbledore was going to show him after dinner was much worse than the Prophecy? He couldn't very well share that with them either. He hated keeping secrets. It was for the best, he decided. They needn't be so involved with everything.

Before Harry knew it, dinner was over, and Hermione was pulling at his arm. She had decided it wasn't worth it to fight with him over his not wanting to share something and was now talking to him. Harry walked with her, Ron, and Lavender out of the Great Hall and up the stairs.

"Ah, I have to go to Dumbledore's office," Harry said as she tried to lead him in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione stopped and turned to him, excited. "Harry! Why didn't you say so? Is he continuing your lessons? Oh, I'll wait up for you Harry. You have to tell me everything!"

Harry decided it was better to not tell her had been with Dumbledore all afternoon, instead he said, "Don't wait for me, Hermione; I don't think I'll be back tonight."

The truth was that Harry didn't know if he could handle going back to the common room that night after whatever it was that Dumbledore was going to tell him.

Hermione looked put out. "But you will tell me tomorrow, right?" She asked.

"What I can," Harry said to appease her.

"Alright," Hermione said. "See you tomorrow, then."

"It's nothing personal, Hermione. I would tell you if I could."

"Yeah, alright."

Harry watched her go and turned to walk to Dumbledore's office.

"Toffee éclairs," Harry said to the gargoyle and got on the winding staircase.

He was nervous and yet curious and elated and just about everything at the same time. Harry knocked on the door to the office as soon as the stairs had taken him up and he heard Dumbledore call him to enter. He stepped inside and found Dumbledore seated behind his desk waiting for him. A glass vial containing the last memory sat in front of him, next to the pensieve.

"This will not take long," Dumbledore said. He poured the memory into the pensieve and motioned for Harry to once more go first.

They were in his father's office, but it was different. The jars with nameless things were gone, and instead the shelves held picture frames of a man with thick, shiny, straw-colored hair and gingery-blond mustache and people whom Harry knew to be important in the Wizarding world. The creator of the Wolfsbane Potion for one; Marcus Belby stood next to the man, holding a potion. They were both grinning.

The same man in the pictures was sitting in a comfortable winged armchair that Harry would never have seen in Snape's office. His feet rested upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the other rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple. There were half a dozen teenage boys sitting around this man with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.

Dumbledore landed beside Harry just as Riddle asked, "Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Who is he?" Harry thought to ask.

"That, my boy, is Professor Horace Slughorn. He was the old Potions Master before your father, in fact both your parents studied under him. Horace never liked Severus, I'm afraid, but he cherished Lily and James—Lily in particular. He always knew she would be great, and she would have done great things had not the events of Halloween so many years ago taken place."

Harry nodded and said nothing more, looking back at the memory. Slughorn seemed to have answered Tom, and finished with, "…I'd like to know where you get your information, boy; more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter—thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite."

Harry listened as Slughorn praised Voldemort in every way, even pushing that he should go into politics.

"Nonsense," said Slughorn briskly to Tom's protestations. "No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around.

"Good gracious is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."

Harry watched as one by one, the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around; Riddle was still standing there.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a Prefect…"

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…"

"Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn stared at him, his thick fingers absentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine glass.

"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?

But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

"Not exactly, sir," said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

"No…well…you'd be hard-put to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said Slughorn.

Harry didn't doubt that Tom already knew that and that it was the reason he was asking for this information.

"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you—sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously—I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could—so I just thought I'd ask—"

It was very well done, thought Harry; the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone. He, Harry, had had too much experience of trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people to not recognize a master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very much; perhaps had been working toward this moment for weeks.

"Well," said Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallized pineapple, "well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course, just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

Harry nearly gasped. What did Voldemort want to do with this information? How could it help him? What did it mean to Harry?

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," said Riddle.

His voice was carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement.

"Well you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body was attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form…"

Slughorn's face crumpled and Harry found himself remembering the words he had heard nearly two years before. "_I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost…but still I was alive."_

"…few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he would no longer hide his longing.

"How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?"

"By an act of evil—the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage. He would encase the town portion—"

"Encase? By how…?"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" Slughorn shook his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it—do I look like a killer?"

"I did not mean to offend," Riddle said and continued with, "What I don't understand, though—just out of curiosity—I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven…?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case…bad enough to divide the soul…but to rip it into seven pieces…"

Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all.

Dumbledore pulled at Harry's elbow as the scene finished, but not before Harry had glimpsed at Riddle's face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, once they were back in his office, "I am sure you understood the significance of what we just heard. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal."

"You think he succeeded then, sir?" asked Harry. "He made a Horcrux? And that's why he didn't die when he attacked me? He had a Horcrux hidden somewhere? A bit of his soul was safe"—and then it dawned on Harry—"or more pieces. Not just one—seven."

Dumbledore nodded. "Four years ago," he said, "I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul."

"Where?" Harry asked. "How?"

He was almost frantic. Voldemort was practically immortal, and what with the Prophecy and everything else—

"You handed it to me, Harry," said Dumbledore, "in the form of Tom Riddle's diary. I was sure almost as soon as you told me—it was a phenomenon. I knew it had to be something more than just a memory. What was inside that diary was a fragment of his soul."

"And there must be others," Harry said in a whisper. "He wouldn't have come back otherwise, right?"

Dumbledore shrugged, showing Harry that even Dumbledore did not have all the answers.

Dumbledore spoke again after a pause, "After the evidence that you offered me, Harry, I felt that the careless way in which Voldemort regarded his Horcrux meant he must have made more. Then two years ago, you told me of his claim once he had come back, '_I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.'_ This cemented my suspicions.

"Much about Voldemort's character helped me in this. I knew after some time that he must have made Horcruxes. And so my quest began. This last memory was the hardest to get. I only just managed it with it the help of Lucius this past summer, and it has led us to being closer than anyone on the path of destroying him."

Harry, who was now on the verge of hyperventilating, something he had never once considered doing in his life, decided it would be best to concentrate on the matter at hand and spoke, "But, surely, sir, we cannot know how many he has made, or where they are. He is—he has achieved what he wanted to achieve. I cannot destroy him."

"Ah, but we do know how many he has," Dumbledore said. "Think back to our memory, Harry, you even said it yourself mere moments ago."

"Seven," Harry said in a small voice. "He made seven Horcr uxes," he continued horror-struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of shock and outrage. "But they could be anywhere in the world—hidden—buried or invisible—"

"I am glad you see the magnitude of our problem, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Firstly, no, Harry, not seven. Six. The seventh part resides within his regenerated body. That is the last piece to attack."

"Six, then," Harry said, a little desperately. "How are we supposed to find them?"

"You are forgetting…you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another."

"You have?" Harry said eagerly.

"The ring, Harry," was all explanation that Dumbledore gave him.

"Your hand, it caused it," Harry said.

Dumbledore nodded, but added nothing more.

"Alright, well, there are four then. They could be anywhere. He could not have just left them lying around now, would he?" And then it dawned on him. "The cup and locket, he would have used them, wouldn't he have? Then what about the other two—what could they be?"

"I think, this is where we can only hazard to guess. Having secured objects from Slytherin and Hufflepuff, I can only say that he must have wanted to use one of Gryffindor's objects, or one of Ravenclaw's. We cannot be sure on whether he ever found a relic of Ravenclaw's but as to Gryffindor's – The only known relic of Gryffindor is well protected."

Dumbledore pointed the hand that Harry knew to be under a glamour, to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted sword reposed within a glass case.

"Then he could have gotten something of Ravenclaw's, which leaves just one more. Do you know what it is, sir?"

"I have had my suspicions for a while that Voldemort thought to make a Horcrux from your death, Harry, and of course that entire plan backfired."

"Then he would be one short," Harry said, excited.

Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe the last one, resides in his pet, Nagini."

"The snake!" Harry said. "You can use animals for this?"

"Of course. It is unadvisable, seeing as they too are living, and moving species of this planet, but it would underline the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort's mystique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes t o keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth."

Harry, who had by this point calmed down somewhat, nodded before speaking, "so," he said, "the diary is gone, the ring's gone. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?"

"An admirable succinct and accurate summary, yes," said Dumbledore, bowing his head.

"So…are you still looking for them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?"

"Correct," said Dumbledore. "I have been looking for a very long time. I think…perhaps…I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs."

"And if you do," said Harry quickly, "can I come with you and help get rid of it?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry very intently for a moment before saying, "Yes, I think so."

"I can?" said Harry, thoroughly taken aback. He hadn't expected him to say he could, especially after how it was Snape that had begun to involve him in things rather than Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "I think you have earned that right."

Harry grinned, but his joy faded at the thought of everything that had fallen on his shoulders. It was as if the fate of the entire Wizarding world had settled there and he was supposed to lift it and not only that, he was supposed to run for hundreds of miles with it.

"So, if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be killed?"

"Yes, I think so," said Dumbledore, "Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. Never forget, though, that while his soul may be damaged beyond repair, his brain and his magical powers remain intact. It will take uncommon skill and power to kill a wizard like Voldemort even without his Horcruxes."

"But I haven't got uncommon skill and power," said Harry, before he could stop himself. And it was true—what was an increase in the strength of his magic. Not even that could work against Voldemort.

"Yes, you have," said Dumbledore firmly. "You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can—"

"I know!" said Harry impatiently. "I can love!" Before he could stop himself he added, "Big deal!"

"Yes, Harry, you can love. Which given everything that has happened to you, is a great and remarkable thing. You are still too young to understand how unusual you are, Harry. Take your relationship with your father. This time last year you hated each other—look at you now."

But Harry didn't love Snape, right? He and Snape did more than tolerate each other, sure, but he didn't love him. He liked him sometimes, but he didn't love him and Snape just as surely as would love Lucius Malfoy, as he would love Harry.

"Harry, it is your ability to love that separates you from him. It is what makes this task all the harder, but that also protects you—the only protection against Voldemort's power."

Harry almost snorted.

"I still have to kill him, don't I?" Harry said. "It doesn't matter that my only protection is love because it will lead to the same thing. I must become a murderer."

Dumbledore did not answer.

Harry stood up. "Are we done, sir?" Harry asked. "I know what I have to do, now. I have to kill him. You will take me with you when you find the Horcrux. I think all I'll have left to do is just to continue on as I have and to work on finding them. Good night, sir."

Harry stood and walked to the door. He had just reached for the doorknob when Dumbledore stopped him by speaking. "I will remind you, Harry, what I said last year. Voldemort chose to mark you as his equal. Voldemort chose to follow the Prophecy just as you can choose to ignore it."

Harry did snort at this, and turning to face Dumbledore, his hand still on the doorknob, he said, "It makes no difference. Even if there were no Prophecy—even if I had never heard it, I'd want him finished, and I'd want to do it."

With that said Harry opened the door and left the room.

**Author's Note: **Hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter, even though obviously all of us have seen most of this stuff before. It was needed, however. Um...I guess that's it...next chapter should be up friday or saturday depending on how much I have to do...I have updated my profile with chapter pictures for this fic, if anyone is interested...so check that out...other than that questions are always welcome and please review.

-Erika


	27. Worries

**Author's Note: **Alright, so this chapter finally gets back to the story away from the stuff I took from the sixth book...but it was needed...anyway...take note of the dates because they do skip a bit more...the fic begins to move at a faster pace and I do hope you all enjoy the chapter. I don't believe it was beta'ed.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Twenty Seven  
_**

_Worries  
_

_January 12, 1997_

Harry pushed the door open. The room was dark, and Harry knew that Severus was not within, but he entered it anyway. He'd just have to wait for his father to get home from where ever it was that he had gone. He waved his wand with a muttered _lumos_ and then settled himself in the closest armchair. He reached into his robes' pocket and pulled out his shrunken bag and reached into it, pulling out his transfiguration book. He had yet to start on the essay that was due the next day, and was confident that he would finish it that night. He had done all the research he needed, and he had it all in his head—it was just a matter of writing it down. It was a plus that it would distract him from his wondering thoughts.

Ever since the headmaster had shared with him the last memory of their lessons, Harry had been plagued with what he would have to do. Every where he went something would remind him of the Horcruxes. It didn't exactly help that what he was learning with Snape was borderline dark arts.

Harry brought out an ink bottle. He set it down on the round table that was a recent addition to the sitting room, and was standing on its three legs next to his armchair. A quill was harder to find from within his bag. Harry dug farther into it, and finally grasped it. He pulled it out and brought it up to his face for close inspection. At once remembering that he still had his glasses on, Harry took them off and dropped them next to the ink bottle, before focusing once more on his quill—the point needed sharpening.

After quickly sharpening his quill with the use of a small knife, Harry shifted in his chair until he could write the essay comfortably, and then began.

It was about an hour later, that Harry heard the door open. He held his dripping quill above the ink bottle and leaned back in his chair. Snape entered the room, scowling.

"What are we doing today?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Snape said. "I hear you're once more putting off homework until the last minute to be here. Lupin is also unaware that you will not be doing his apprenticeship any longer."

Harry sighed. "Look, I just haven't told him about it yet. I was going to. As for my schoolwork, all of it has been on time so you can't say I need more time to work on that. What is important is that I learn enough to defeat Voldemort."

"You told me once your future mattered too," Snape said. He walked farther into the room, giving Harry a questioning look. "What has got you so bothered?"

Harry didn't answer, instead he put away his things. "Nothing is bothering me," he muttered. "I realized that I am not ready for anything that he might want to put in front of me, and that is far more important than most things."

"Fine," said Snape. "I'm not going to bother asking you anything more about this, then."

"So, what are we doing?" Harry asked again.

"Give me a minute, will you? I really cannot stand staff meetings."

Harry laughed.

Snape walked to his room and returned a few minutes later, holding what Harry knew to be a dark detector, though he could not remember its name, and it looked slightly different. The small object was in the shape of a V. Strange runes looked to be carved into the inch thick sides, and there was a certain magic about it that almost made Harry want to take it from Snape and cradle it against him.

"What is that? Are we using it?" Harry asked, his eyes never leaving it.

"This is something I borrowed from the headmaster to show you. It's a very unique object—I have never seen anything like it," Snape said. "This is a very strange piece of magic. It is a dark detector, as I'm sure you know, however, it does not use the same sorts of magic that its brother uses. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. You have encountered its brother within the DA."

Harry nodded. He remembered it. It looked only slightly different than this object that Snape held. It didn't have the runes, and the V shape was wider, and it had a small circular mirror that told you if someone had used a dark spell within a room.

"The other one—I forgot what it was called, it tells you if someone used the dark arts in a room, or house, but only if any of those spells had been used within a month, any time later it wouldn't be read."

"Yes, this one—why, it reads people."

"You mean, it tells you if someone has used the dark arts?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded. "I saw that you were pulled towards it, the moment I brought it close enough to you. That is another part of it. Someone that has never done any dark magic will immediately feel this pull to the Dark Illuminator."

"So, there aren't many of these?" Harry asked.

"We are only aware of this one at this current time—but I think it really is unique."

"Then, why are you showing it to me?" Harry asked.

"Dumbledore wishes for you to have it. If someone has used the dark arts, then it is important that you know it. Harry, you are aware that the line that separates dark and light magic is almost invisible. You also know, that anyone that you trust should not use this kind of magic. We've talked about it before. It is a way for you to know who you surround yourself with."

"Do you think my friends are untrustworthy? You've implied it before, but you have never said it outright. They would never do anything to harm me."

Snape nodded stiffly. "I am not talking about Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger, Harry, but others around you."

"Alright," Harry said.

"So you will accept this gift? It is a precious object."

"Yes, but it won't always tell the truth. What about you? You have to use the dark arts, don't you, being in Voldemort's service? I trust you—this will not tell me that I should."

"I am not talking about me, but people that should not be affiliated with this kind of magic."

Harry laughed. "I know. I just thought I'd point out that sometimes it is better to use your knowledge of the world than to use a magical devise that doesn't know how to think or feel."

-

-

-

That night Harry dreamed. He had been plagued with dreams—nightmares, really—since the night he had witnessed the memory of Voldemort asking about the Horcruxes. The very knowledge of those items that held fragments of Voldemort's soul alone made him shudder. In his dreams he saw Helga Hufflepuff's cup, and Salazar's Slytherin's locket, and Nagini; he saw them haunting him and cutting him apart, looking for the most part like meaningless objects, ejecting dark magic at him.

His dream was the same every time—only some details changed. The color of the fog, the shape or size of each Horcrux; the people he would see around him.

_Harry was running down a long corridor. It was dark and he couldn't see more than the outline of his feet or hands in front of him. He couldn't look back to see if they were following him. He could only run. _

_A cold laugh drifted from somewhere above him. Harry dared himself to not look up—he mustn't give them the satisfaction of knowing that he was scared witless. His legs felt like jelly, ready to fall under him. He continued running and tried to ignore the fact that they were emitting a small glow of darkness. _

_The laugh came again. Harry shuddered and tried to push away his fear. _

_"Harry Potter," a cold, high voice whispered. _

_Harry stumbled over his feet and tried to get up, and then he saw them. They were there ahead of him, each of them holding a piece of Voldemort. Nagini slid forward, mocking him. _

_"You'll never get us, Harry Potter," she hissed at him. _

_Harry tried to stand again, and this time managed it, but he couldn't run, something was holding him down. Snape was behind him. He was frowning, but not looking at him, but off in the distance. _

_Harry called to him, but when he turned around he was no longer Snape, but Voldemort, sneering at him. _

Harry woke up in cold sweat. He was breathing hard, and he felt a pounding in his head. He rubbed a hand over his face and leaned back into bed knowing that it was now useless to even try to get any sleep.

It was always like this, night after night. Sometimes he was lucky and he didn't dream, but most of the time he did, and it was those nights that led him to the common room where he would sit huddled under a blanket with the dying fire with a book that he couldn't pay attention to.

Harry was surprised that none of his roommates had realized yet that nearly every night he woke up from a nightmare. His only comfort was that they rarely ever had Voldemort, the man, in them. Snape on the other hand made an appearance at least twice a week if not more. Dumbledore was another one that sometimes showed up in his dreams. Lucius had appeared in only one, but it had been the worst—that had been his first dream.

Harry slipped out of bed, ignoring the cold the floor offered, and instead headed directly to his trunk. He changed quickly into robes, grabbed the book Hermione had given him for Christmas, made to close the trunk, and then stopped. The phoenix that Draco Malfoy had given him was wrapped up in a thin cloth. Harry grabbed it and brought it with him down to the common room.

It was a strange thing—that phoenix. Even stranger that Draco had bothered with giving him a present. He hadn't brought up the subject with his Potions' partner, and he didn't in particular want to bring it up, and it was obvious that Draco did not want to speak of it either.

The common room looked just the same as every night. Books, open and closed lay across the room. A broken quill was dangling off of the red plush armchair that Seamus Finnigan had been occupying earlier that night. Hermione's knitting was on the floor next to the sofa closest to the fire. Ron's chess pieces were sleeping atop a wooden board. Harry sat down on the sofa and stared at the hearth and the last few embers that remained of the fire. He dropped the phoenix figurine next to him along with the book wrapped his usual blanket around his shoulders. He groaned almost in pain and wondered just how long it would take for it to finally be over.

-

-

-

_January 14, 1997_

"Apparition lessons!" Hermione squealed. She sat down next to Harry in the common room and grinned at him.

Harry laughed tiredly at his best friend. "When are they?"

"March," Hermione said. "But aren't you excited."

Harry who had never really been fond of any form of transportation in the wizarding world, wondered if he was going to like this kind. He doubted it would be any better than using a portkey, but he still nodded at Hermione who seemed over the moon about the subject. He tuned her out as she prattled on, knowing that he would be hearing about it for the rest of the day not only from Hermione. He could already hear excited whispers from Seamus and Dean. Neville who had side-along apparated with his uncle was blushing furiously as Parvati, Lavender, and Ron asked him all about it. Harry lifted his head, and Neville caught his eye. Harry gave him an encouraging smile and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked. "Transfiguration isn't for another fifteen minutes."

It was the perils of going to breakfast early, Harry decided, having Hermione know that he really had nowhere else to be but the common room or the Great Hall if he decided to linger which wasn't something Harry enjoyed doing when most of the time he had homework to complete.

"I have to see Remus," Harry told her. Which was the truth. "I have to talk to him about some schedule changes in my apprenticeship. I fear I can't really do as much as I was doing before the term was over."

Hermione frowned. Harry knew she was probably itching to ask why, but he was grateful that for once Hermione decided to not ask him any more questions. Harry couldn't but feel that there was a reason for her lack of questions.

"See you in class," he called at her before he left, for what he only received a nod.

-

-

-

Remus was already in his classroom when Harry entered it. He didn't look up to Harry, and continued writing something down. Harry waited until he was done to clear his throat and alert the lycanthrope to his presence.

"Harry," Remus said in a welcoming yet surprised voice. "I thought I wouldn't be seeing you until class tomorrow."

"I've been planning on coming to see you for a while now," Harry offered. "I've just been busy."

"Dumbledore informed me that you had begun to learn even more from your father than before. He seemed to think that I should have known about this already."

Harry laughed. "I really did mean to tell you. The thing is, with doing that and classes, and—well, I'm not really getting much of a night's sleep anymore."

"You should ask Severus for a potion, he would gladly give you one especially if it would mean you would be well rested."

Harry shrugged. "I'll eventually need the use of dreamless sleep when something worse happens—when I have to do something that I will regret—if I use it now and it becomes useless to me…I don't know, but it isn't worth it."

Remus frowned and looked as if he wanted to argue, but Harry continued, "Anyway, the reason I was supposed to see you was because I can't do this apprenticeship anymore. I enjoy it, I do, and I think I'll come and help you when I can, but I just can't handle it right now. I think my eyes were opened to the fact that Voldemort really is out there and maybe I'm starting to believe that I am the one that has to defeat him and that is more important than anything.

A deeper frown crossed over Remus' face, but again he said nothing. Harry paced about the room and sighed. "I really enjoyed what we did. Everything you taught me. I might just consider teaching after everything is done with, but this can all wait until Voldemort is gone."

-

-

-

_January 17, 1997_

Severus slammed his hand on the desk. "How can you say something like that, Draco?" he asked.

"It isn't my fault you don't trust me!" Draco shouted back, standing. "I cannot stand idly while he continues to push me to do this when you do nothing to show me that you either trust me or that you are working on a way to help me."

"Draco," Severus began.

Draco turned away. "I don't want to do it," he said, "you know I don't, but that makes no difference when every where I turn there are reminders of my task. He is haunting me with this. I cannot continue this way."

Severus watched his godson pace across the room. He leaned back in his chair and wished that he had something to drink, like gin perhaps. He mused on this for a few minutes, before looking at Draco again.

"Do you trust me, Draco?" Severus asked.

"You know I do," Draco said at once, stopping in his pacing and leaning against one of Severus' shelves.

Severus noticed that even though Draco looked calm, his hands were shaking and his cold gray eyes sometimes flashed his emotions out at him. Severus didn't know how it would ever be possible for Draco to hide anything from Voldemort—how he had hidden his reluctance to kill Dumbledore from him was something that Severus could not understand. Draco was very much like his father. They didn't only look alike, but they had a sense of preservation that most of the time selfishly allowed them to continue on with their lives at the expense of others. Severus could not fool himself that Draco would not use him. That was why he was there, arguing with him. Draco wanted to get a way out of this conundrum that Voldemort had forced him into in any way that he could, and it didn't matter that it would lead to him, Severus, killing Albus Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord does not expect you to succeed at your task. That is one of the reasons he gave it to you. You know this, Draco."

Draco gave a short nod and wrung his hands together.

"It is then, quite inexplicable for you to want to accomplish it—" Severus stood.

"Someone has to do it," Draco said. "It will be one of us."

"You trust me, Draco," Severus said. "You've told me that much. Then, trust me to know what we will do."

"Not if you don't tell me anything!" Draco shouted. His face was flushed and his hands were fisted.

"What? So you can betray me, Draco?" Severus asked. He stood and walked around his desk to where Draco stood. "Do you think I trust you, boy?"

Draco pulled himself away from the Potions Master, looking angry. Severus turned away from him in a disgusted manner. "Your father proved time and time again that all he cared about was self preservation," Severus said. "You are no different."

"I am not my father!" Draco yelled. "I have never been my father, if you fail to see that, then maybe I should just go ahead and poison that old coot!"

Severus sighed. "So," he said, "what do you want to do then, Draco?"

Draco sunk into his former chair. He ran a hand through his pale almost white hair. "I don't know. I don't want to kill him, but you are doing nothing to kill Dumbledore. You are doing nothing to help me. You yell at me and tell me to do nothing. He will not wait until you are good and ready!"

"Do not speak of things you do not understand, Draco! It is only because of your mother that I am even helping you in this fool's errand. Albus Dumbledore may be the Dark Lord's greatest enemy but that does not mean that I do not admire him."

Draco laughed a cold laugh that reminded Severus of his father's laugh. "You are a fool, Severus," he said, "if you assume that you can get out of this."

"I assume nothing, Draco, however I know the importance of patience," Severus drawled back.

Draco glared at him "You are a coward," he said in a whisper. "You are waiting until the last moment to do something that you could do readily."

Severus stood again and walked around the desk, coming to a stop behind Draco. "You have never killed a man, Draco. You have never seen the light leave a man's eyes. If I wanted to, I could easily give him a poison, let him die in his quarters, but that would be the coward's way to do it. When I kill him—because I will—I will not enjoy it, but I will show myself to him."

Severus walked around Draco and sat back down behind his desk. Draco glared at him again, but this time he had nothing to say. He looked away from Severus after a moment and instead stared intently at his hands.

Severus allowed himself to look at the boy and notice the differences between the boy that had left Hogwarts the year before, and the one that sat before him. He was paler. His cheeks were thinner, and there was a strange aura about the boy that until that moment he had not realized surrounded him.

"Draco," he said gentler than before. "Do not misunderstand me. I am on your side. I am looking after your best interests, but if you defy me then all is lost. You must understand that this will take some time."

"And in the meanwhile I will suffer under his hand," Draco said in almost a whisper. "In the meanwhile I will pay for all of this, won't I?"

Severus sighed and closed his eyes. "I cannot tell you anything more than what I have already. For everything we do we must suffer. This is only a part of it, Draco, but once and for all put someone else ahead of you."

Draco laughed. He stood up. "I cannot help what will happen. I've set things in motion. You cannot stop them."

Severus growled at this. "Draco, what have you done?" He asked.

"I trust you, Severus," Draco said in the smallest voice that he could possibly use. "I do, but I had to do something. I am not you. I am neither you or my father. I cannot handle this."

"What has your father told you?" Severus asked at once.

"He told me nothing. Anything he said to me, well, it was mostly implied, but by the end there I guess we all know what he wanted. He didn't want this life the two of us lead."

Severus sighed. "Whatever you have done, Draco, it better have been worth something, and it better not cause any trouble."

Draco didn't answer instead he walked to the door to Severus' office, and Severus watched him leave, hoping that Draco had not messed up everything irreparably. If he had—Draco would have more to fear than just an angry Voldemort.

**Author's Note: **I really liked how this chapter turned out...just the pace of the chapter and everything going in the chapter...and it was generally easy to write...anyway hope you guys all enjoy it as much as I liked writing it...questions of course are always welcome and please review...

updating on Wednesday.

-Erika


	28. Poison

**Author's Note: **I feel as if since posting ch. 25 and 26 I've lost readers...and so I wanted to address the issue of AU cannon, which is what this story is. I myself hated the sixth book. I really didn't like it as much as the others but that might have been a lot to do with Ginny/Harry because even though the pairing is okay I never saw them together (I mean come on...they look so much like Lily and James!) anyway, I didn't like a lot of it...except for certain scenes that made it a whole lot better. I liked Dumbledore and Harry talking about Tom. I liked also Draco's usefulness in the book. And I liked Dumbledore and Harry going after the Horcrux but much more than that was just not something I quite liked...and Harry's way of dealing with things was both impressive and just annoying.

This story was not originally planned to become AU cannon other than the use of Horcruxes, but and I will say this now outright this fic has turned out very cannon with changes, obviously, making it also AU. However, the sequel will not be cannon at all. I know exactly how it will go and it will not be cannon. I don't really mind losing readers if you don't want to read something that is a lot like the 6th book, but trust me there will be maybe just a few things that will be exactly like it...and most of them I've edited and changed slightly to fit...so just thought I'd address that.

Thank you to everyone that reviewed. I love hearing from you guys...and enjoy the chapter. This chapter was not beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Twenty Eight  
_**

_Poison  
_

_January 31, 1997_

Albus Dumbledore would never claim to be omniscient. While sitting in his office, a frown crossed his face. He was frowning over the latest letter from the Minister of Magic. Scrimgeour was once again demanding that Dumbledore allow him an audience with Harry. It just wouldn't do. Harry could not be accosted by the new Minister, even if he was a little saner than Fudge. Scrimgeour only had thoughts for the improvement of the ministry just like any politician. He only wanted Harry Potter to be their poster boy as Fudge had wanted before him for "the sake of the wizarding world," he had said. Dumbledore knew better. He folded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope carelessly. He would answer it later in the same manner he had used to answer the other letters from the former Auror.

He turned to the next letter. This one was much more important for the war effort. This letter was from an old friend that he had sent in the place of Remus Lupin to infiltrate the werewolves under Greyback's power. His spy, Sawyer Argentum, kept him informed of the goings on of the werewolves with his weekly reports. The letter he was holding in his hands currently had been long awaited. Dumbledore opened the letter with little hesitancy hoping that it was good news for the Order.

He pulled out the folded letter, and scanned it quickly before he dropped it on his desk. It appeared that nothing he had done had swayed their sympathies in his way. Other than the few werewolves that did not swear their loyalties with Greyback, they had lost them.

Reaching for a ball point pen—one of those muggle inventions that in his opinion every wizard should have—he wrote a quick reply. He enclosed it with his own personal signature, and a spell that would allow no one but Sawyer to read it, and then called Fawkes over.

"To Sawyer, please, Fawkes," he muttered to his old companion who gave a sharp nod and then with a spit of fire disappeared. The magic of phoenixes were both impressive and something that no one had a lot of information on.

Dumbledore looked at the remaining letters addressed to him and gave a weary sigh. It was always the same—an hour of each day was set aside just for mail. Everyone seemed to expect him to solve all their problems. Just like he wasn't omniscient, he was also not omnipotent—few people understood that.

Dumbledore opened the next piece of mail. This was another missive from the ministry, this time it was from a man that he recognized as having been a student at Hogwarts just two years before. Dumbledore put that aside to read later if he had the time. He moved the next two letters to that same pile that had been already made up of five or six envelopes.

There were only a few letters left, and it was a good thing too, his hour was almost up, and he hated taking away from other activities that needed his attention, like the report Lucius was giving him in ten to fifteen minutes on what he had found about the location of the Horcrux he was so close to finding.

Dumbledore opened the next letter and frowned at the sentence long letter that informed him of a new law that Scrimgeour was trying to pass but that he hadn't yet achieved. Dumbledore once more thanked the spies he had placed within the ministry to inform him of such events.

The next letter was added to the pile of letters he would read later, and then Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and leisurely stared at the ceiling, hoping that Lucius had good news for him—he needed some good news for once.

Dumbledore didn't have to wait long, before his fire turned green and a well dressed, well groomed man stepped out. He had long black hair that hung loose around his pale face. He had high cheek bones, and piercing green eyes that could have looked into your very soul.

"Lucien," Dumbledore said. "Take a seat."

Lucien, as the man had been called, took a seat, a smirk that belonged on a different face, coming to rest at his lips. When he spoke, it was the voice of Lucius Malfoy that escaped him. "I trust all is well," he said gently. "On my end nothing has gone right. There is only one good piece of news that I can hope to share with you."

Dumbledore stood up. "I assume this shall be better under the influence of a drink? I believe I have some mulled mead just here. Minerva gave it to me just a few weeks ago—it seems she isn't quite fond of this brand, given to her by an old student as she saw it, and she knows I enjoy it."

Lucius in the body that wasn't his own nodded. "That would help matters. Yes."

Dumbledore chuckled and reached under his desk from which he withdrew a bottle filled with amber liquid. Next, he pulled out two glasses and opened the bottle, pouring the mead into each glass. He handed the first to Lucius, and then picked up the second.

"The only thing that is of any use to us is the fact that we were correct in our assumptions. One of the Horcruxes is near where the old woman claimed their little vacation spot was."

"That is good, but we must yet find the actual place," Dumbledore said. "What else do you have for me, Lucien?"

Lucius looked at his drink intently, though he did not bring the cup to his lips. Dumbledore, seeming to have remembered that he too had a glass of mead in his hand, took a sip, and smiled a faint smile and then he felt as if something was chocking him and cutting off his air passage.

Lucius was up in a second and coming around the desk. "What can I do?" He asked desperately.

Dumbledore managed to point at the mead and then he heard the fireplace come to life and rushing towards him holding what looked like a shriveled fig was Severus Snape.

"Lucius, out of the way!" He yelled all the while, muttering to himself, and waving his hand at the bottle of amber liquid, before he got to Dumbledore.

He opened the headmaster's mouth and then stuffed the beozar down his throat. Dumbledore coughed as it went down his gullet, and then he took a deep breath.

"Stupid boy," Severus said. "I didn't think he would actually do it. I should have warned you, Albus."

Severus rubbed at his temples and then looked at Dumbledore who was still quite pale and whose breathing was coming out erratically.

"How did you know he was on the verge of death?" Lucius thought to ask. He was standing next to Dumbledor, looking at him concerned.

"We devised a spell so that I would know when his death would come," Severus said. "So I could do anything to prevent it."

Lucius nodded. "Are you quite alright, Albus?" He asked then when Dumbledore started to cough again.

Dumbledore waved them away, but another fitting cough caught up with him.

Severus waved his hand and produced a glass of water. He handed it to the headmaster who drank only a sip, coughed once, and then drank down the water. He regained his color a few minutes later.

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Lucius asked, still looking concerned.

Severus nodded, asking the question himself.

"A little poison will not do away with me, My Boys," Dumbledore said, and then looking at Severus, "Explain, now, Severus, what stupid boy are we talking about."

Severus smiled wryly. "Why, this lout's son, that's who," he said, motioning towards Lucius. "He decided a few weeks ago that he could not trust me to do his task and that he had to try at least an attempt at Albus' life."

Lucius frowned. "Draco has lack of impulse control," he said as if that explained everything.

"That he does," Severus said.

Dumbledore coughed again.

Severus frowned at him. "I'll get you something for that, Headmaster," he said, and then looked at Lucius. "Your potion is wearing off."

Lucius reached for his hair, and it was indeed a light shade of brown, and becoming paler.

"I guess, I must also leave, then. The information I gleaned is not overly important. I should go lest someone see me."

Dumbledore nodded and leaned tiredly against his chair. He watched Lucius depart, and then Severus. Severus was back moments later with a light blue colored potion, which he handed to him. Dumbledore didn't even bother with questioning the Potions Master on what potion he had been handed was and instead gulped it down.

-

-

-

_February 3, 1997_

"Ron," Harry called from his place in the quidditch stands.

He had arrived late to practice, to find his team already out on the pitch with their brooms, under the direction of Ron and Ginny who had taken it upon themselves to act as the captains of the team. Harry had not bothered to change into his quidditch robes, or go up to join his team, but instead had quietly made his way to the stands to watch. It wasn't his fault that he had been late to the practice, but rather being caught up in a conversation with his father and Dumbledore who had looked much worse than the last time he had seen him.

Dumbledore had wanted to tell Harry exactly how to use the Dark Illuminator, which wasn't something that Snape was very well versed at. They had gotten caught up talking about the object before Harry had realized that he had to be in the quidditch pitch, and then he had taken off at a run, only to find that his team had not even bothered to send someone out to look for him.

What was more surprising was how much Harry felt a slight bit of relief at the thought that the team did not need him—their captain. He had watched until the end of the practice and once they had all headed toward the locker rooms, and Ron put the balls away, then he had called Ron's name out.

Ron turned and looked around disoriented, and then spotted Harry. "Oh," he said and flew to Harry. "I didn't know you were here, you should have joined us. Ginny went to the common room to find you, but she said no one knew where you were."

"I was in the library," Harry lied, "got caught up doing this and that." Then he sighed.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked.

"Its endings," Harry said. "All kinds of them, I guess. Never did like them, but I guess they happen in everything, don't they? Anyway, I came up here late, and then I saw the team up there and I realized something. You don't need me—"

"We need you—" Ron began, only to be cut off by Harry.

"No, you don't," he said. "I saw the way everything went. How you and Ginny did out there. The advice she gave Cootes. Just everything she did—helping Delmelza that way. I wouldn't have done that. I wouldn't have recognized those things as well as she did. Ginny is amazing at this."

Ron laughed. "What are you trying to tell me, mate? Are you in love with my sister or something?"

Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "No, Ron, it isn't that. It's me as a captain of this team," Harry said. "I know how I felt when I was first told. I wanted this to be the best year ever in quidditch, but I'm not like Oliver Wood, and I'm certainly not like Angelina last year. I mean I didn't even hold try outs until—well, late. It was a good thing the games were pushed back or we probably would have had to forfeit that first game."

"But you've been busy with school and everything else—" Ron said and stopped at Harry's look.

"I am busy, Ron," said Harry, "that is my point, isn't it? That I'm so busy that quidditch has become the one thing I am pushing out of my life, or that I am trying hard to keep or rather, that I am losing because I am doing so much more."

Ron looked like he wanted to protest, and already he was raising his fist as if he wanted to make some great point but then he shook his head and seemed to take a good look at Harry.

"You look," he whispered, "so tired."

Harry laughed a humorless laugh. "I am doing so much, Ron. I can't continue on like this. If it is quidditch I have to quit, then that is what I shall quit."

"But you can't!" Ron cried. "You're the best seeker this school has! You can't quit, now!"

Harry smiled softly. "Until you find another seeker I'll play for you. Ginny will do a great job at that. You'll need another chaser though."

Ron looked at his flabbergasted, as if Harry had spoken a taboo.

"I want to give you and Ginny captaincy—the two of you together will work wonders on the team." He sighed and then added, when looking at Ron's striken face. "I'll play, alright, but I won't come to practices."

Ron opened his mouth to once more say something against Harry's choice, but instead he closed his mouth and nodded.

"I'm sorry things have to be this way," Harry said. "I really am, but there is no other way. I am so tired sometimes I can rarely stand, and lately I've been putting off having practices so I can do my homework. And then I have Snape to deal with and the apprenticeship which I'm doing more of, and just classes in general."

Harry stood up and sighed. "Its part of growing up," he said to Ron. "I think I've felt like this for a while, but endings are always so hard." He shifted the broom in his hands. "I think I'll always love this sport, but quidditch can only mean so much to me when Voldemort is out there."

-

-

-

_February 6, 1997_

Ron heard the thrashing first, before the whimpering, and the soft scream. He shot out of bed and knew at once where it was coming from. It had been an often occurrence the previous year and he had well gotten used to being woken up by Harry's nightmares, even though lately he hadn't had any, until this night, that is.

Ron padded the short distance to Harry's bed and pulled the hangings apart, looking down at his best friend. He raised his hand and reached for Harry's shoulder, but before he could shake him awake, Harry had grabbed his arm in a painful grip and he muttered something in his sleep. It almost sounded like a spell to Ron, but he couldn't be sure, and then he was hanging upside down. Ron yelled and woke up Harry at once. Harry looked startled and as if he were still in the dream and the he looked up and laughed.

Neville and Dean had also woken up, but Seamus clutched at his pillow and continued sleeping.

Dean was yawning, trying to look around to figure out what had woken him, and then broke into a fit of laughter when he saw Ron.

Harry had brought out his wand and waved it at Ron until he fell.

"Bloody Hell, Harry!" Ron yelled. "What was that? You were having a nightmare and I tried to wake you up, but then you muttered something and I was hanging from the ceiling."

Harry paled, probably at the mention of his nightmare. "Just a spell I saw in a book. I guess I was using it in the dream."

Ron didn't mention that Harry had not been holding his wand and the magic had been purely wandless. Instead he nodded, and looked at Neville who had fallen back into bed and fallen into a deep sleep. Dean yawned a couple of times, gave Harry a questioning look and then went back to bed.

Harry yawned and looked tiredly at Ron. "I'm going to go back to sleep, Ron," he said. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Ron said, even though he was still sprawled on the flour. He got up slowly. "You?" he asked.

"Fine," Harry said, "just the old nightmare." Harry shrugged.

Ron looked at him thoughtfully and then went back to bed, however, for some reason he couldn't fall asleep. He closed his eyes and tried, hard, and waited to hear the even breathing of his best friend next to him, but it appeared that Harry was also having trouble sleeping. Ron didn't want to break the silence when he knew that Harry was probably going through the dream over and over in his head. It had always been like that—he would speak to him or Hermione about it later when he had finished analyzing the dream by himself.

Ron turned on his side and slowly tried to fall asleep. It took him a few more minutes and then he once more drifted into the land of sleep, however right before he got there, he heard Harry get out of bed. He didn't bother getting up again, and continued sleeping.

-

-

-

_February 9, 1997_

"I'm worried about him," Hermione announced, lifting her head from her heavy tome to look at one of her best friend.

"Worried about who?" Ron asked. He bit into the piece of toast he had managed to take before Hermione dragged him to the library.

"Harry," Hermione asked, giving him a look that made Ron feel as if he were dense.

Ron sighed and then nodded. "I guess you're right. He's been having nightmares lately, you know, and then when he wakes up from them he leaves the room. I confronted him last night, but he just said not to worry about him and that he was fine. I don't know, and then there's just so many other things."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Exactly," she said. "At least he quit being quidditch captain and he's changed a bit of things with Remus, but he's still doing so much. Nightmares, you say? I guess after he wakes up is when he does his homework. Poor Harry. Has he talked to you about any of them?"

"No," Ron said. "I thought maybe he needed a bit of time, but I don't know how long they've been going on."

"But he hasn't gone missing on any nights, right?" Hermione asked. "Not like before?"

"No, none," Ron said.

Hermione frowned and closed her book with a snap. "I don't want to bring it up," she said. "You know how he gets, but if he gets worse then I guess we're going to have to talk to him about it. Get him to take dreamless sleep at the very least."

"Alright," Ron agreed.

Hermione turned back to her books and continued searching. It had to be there—specific instructions to make the potion. Everything she had found so far for the potion had been half instructions meant for Potions Masters that understood the materials so well that they knew just what to do.

"What are you researching now, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"A potion. I think it will help him during the final battle, Ron," Hermione said. "I've been working on this for weeks."

Ron grunted.

Hermione laughed, but went directly back to her books a moment later, and then she found it—a complete list of the ingredients needed. But the instructions were meager. She needed something better, especially if she was going to enlist Harry's help.

"Mind if I go, Hermione?" Ron asked. "It's only I just spotted Lavender over there and—"

"Go on," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

She left the book she had found the ingredients in open and opened another one, continuing on her search for proper instructions for the potion. It was tedious work but in the end it would be worth it. If this potion gave Harry enough luck to kill Voldemort then she would have done her job. With a weary sigh to rival the one she had heard Harry utter not the night before, Hermione buried herself into more books.

**Author's Note: **I enjoyed writing this chapter immensely...just Dumbledore actually getting poisoned. That is what Draco was planning, by the way, and what had Snape worried. It wasn't the thing with the room of requirement (in fact, Draco is not going to plan that.) Anyway, questions of course are always welcome and please review...

updating on Friday.

-Erika


	29. The Chamber of Secrets

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone. I have a day off school today so I'll be home working on ch. 3 of the sequel and a one-shot that I've been meaning to write for a while. Might involve a certain Severus Snape and Harry Potter but I'm not entire sure about that. lol. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Thank you for the reviews. This chapter was not beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Twenty Nine  
_**

_The Chamber of Secrets  
_

_February 16, 1997_

Harry saw his father invite Draco Malfoy into his office with a scowl. Draco looked cowed and nervous. Harry wondered what that was all about, but knew that he could not simply barge in there, and that Snape would most likely kill him if he ever found out that Harry was eavesdropping. So, with a final curious look at the door to Snape's office, Harry walked past it and down the corridor, on his way to a hidden room Hermione had found in the dungeons which to Harry's surprise hadn't even been on the map. It was in this room, that Hermione had disclosed everything she knew about Felix Felicis to him with that damned glint in her eye that had told Harry that within no uncertain terms would he be able to talk her out of brewing it—even if it meant she was doing it alone.

Harry didn't in particular understand the appeal the potion had to Hermione, but he tried hard to not let that bother him. He had been meaning to talk to Snape about the potion to see what he thought about it, but hadn't had enough time to breach the subject with him. It was hard enough that every time they saw each other, Harry felt for some reason nervous as if he were keeping something from the man, which he knew to be completely untrue. Dumbledore had practically told him that Snape was aware of the Horcruxes, so he wasn't hiding anything—but Dumbledore had said something else. This something had haunted him almost as much as his dreams. Dumbledore had used Snape as an example of Harry's "power the Dark Lord knows not".

Pushing the very thought away, Harry continued down the hall and then towards a well hidden portrait just a few feet from the end of the corridor. There he stopped and took in the portrait as he had done the first time. It was a landscape picture depicting of all places the Forbidden Forest in such a way that it made it look almost beautiful and gentle, not all how it really was. The painting held no indication that within the forest there were acromantulas, or centaurs, or a number of other ghastly creatures, or that there were also beautiful specimens of the world that few ever got to witness within.

He pressed his hand against the middle of the portrait and waited for a few minutes before it swung open and allowed him entrance into a beautifully decorated room made up in colors of warm browns and shades of blue. The room was very austere, Harry decided, it was barren. It was empty of a number of things that had obviously once been there.

The room was small, but did not give the appearance of a cramped space, instead its very atmosphere made Harry feel almost free. A table that had been used for potions and preparing ingredients sat decidedly in the middle of the room, facing an empty cupboard that was pushed against the wall next to a dust covered book case that held a small stack of books that Harry was sure Hermione had put there. They were all, he mused, probably about the Potion—going into such detail that even Snape wouldn't want to read them.

Harry stepped farther into the room and dropped his bag on the table. He had been hoping that Hermione would already be there. He knew she was probably in the library gathering every last bit of knowledge to share with him about the potion. Harry decided he had better use his time efficiently and began writing the essay for potions that Snape had set just a couple of days ago on how to better the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.

He had just begun looking for something to change in the procedure of making the potion when Hermione entered the room, looking flushed from the run she had probably taken to get there. He had begun to investigate such matters as soon as the advice from the Half-Blood Prince had worked and he had managed to change only a few potions to show better results when an ingredient was added in such a way that it mixed better with the rest of the potion.

"Sorry," Hermione cried, "got caught up in the library. I was making a schedule for the brewing process."

He had given her the idea of the schedule after she had first shared her information with him, which had been much more to help his busy schedule than anything else. She of course had become excited over the prospect of planning something, especially if it meant everything would be much more organized.

"Alright," Hermione said. "We all get equal time with the potion. At least once a week one of us will have to be in here at three in the morning to add something, but it will be worth it in the end. Now, I haven't gotten anything yet because first I want to make sure that you're alright with the entire schedule. I made four copies, one for each of us, and one to keep here just in case."

Harry gave a nod, and then stopped and then frowned. "Who else is working on this? You said Ron wouldn't be much help."

"No, he wouldn't so I got someone else to help us, but I can't tell you who it is. He prefers to keep his identity secret for now."

Harry opened his mouth to protest that and ask what she could have possibly been thinking, allowing some one to talk her into not telling him who else was working on something as important as this, but decided that he would not ask her anything seeing as he too was keeping too much secret from her.

"Alright, fine, as long as it isn't someone like Draco Malfoy. He's a death eater, you know."

Hermione gave no reaction but instead opened her bag. She pulled out their schedule and handed him his. Every day for the next two months were marked with someone's initials all in different colors with a time, down to the seconds marked next to everything they would have to do each time. Harry searched out for the initials of the other person working on the potion and found only the letters **_L.B. _**which gave him no idea as to whom it was.

"Alright," he said looking through it. "But I don't know how well this will work, what if I get detention, or I have to go see Dumbledore."

"I've thought about that," Hermione said. "In case we're late or anything like that, I will be placing a spell on the cauldron we use, so that the moment it reaches a time when it must stop simmering, the most amount of time it should, it will be put under stasis, that when say you come in late you can remove before continuing on. Added to that, I found this spell that will write out the last thing that was done to the potion with a description of how it was done so that the next person will know what comes next, and if we make a mistake we can go back and find out what it was by going over all of those records."

She smiled brightly and Harry couldn't help but join her. Hermione was simply brilliant.

"Alright," he told her a second later, "I'm in."

She jumped up and down for a moment and then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Harry laughed, but wrapped his arms around her, and couldn't help but breathe in her smell. It was a mixture of something sweet, like fruit he decided, as she pulled away still smiling.

"Thank you, Harry," she said and then turned back to her bag, searching for something. A second later she pulled out a roll of parchment and set it down on the desk, straightening it.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well this is a list of things we'll need," she said. "I think all the supplies I can get on my own, and we have some of these ingredients in the students' stores so that shouldn't be a problem, but we do have three things in here that I wouldn't know where to get."

"Ah," Harry said, beginning to understand. "And you want me to steal them?"

Hermione laughed. "Not, exactly. I actually just want you to help me find one, and it shouldn't be hard. It's just a trip down to the Chamber of Secrets really?"

"Hermione, what do you need?" Harry asked, and bent down over the roll of parchment, and the he laughed. "Basilisk skin?" He asked and continued laughing. "It's lucky, you know, that we have some of that skin down there otherwise we wouldn't be able to brew this at all."

Hermione nodded her head vigorously. "I was thinking, that too. It seems like fate. Someone or something wanted us to brew this potion if it is handing us the hardest ingredient to pertain like this."

Harry rolled his eyes, but suddenly had a thought. Giving Snape some of that skin would make the man stop acting like something terrible had happened, as had been a tendency of his of late. He had noticed a few weeks back, but hadn't bothered to ask what the matter was, though he knew it highly concerned one Draco Malfoy.

-

-

-

_February 19, 1997_

The first chance Harry had of going down to the Chamber of Secrets made itself known when Harry entered his father's quarters and found a note waiting for him pinned to Harry's usual chair telling him that he would not be able to make it that night, but that Harry was free to do anything he wanted in his quarters as long as it did not consist of something he would classify as "Gryffindor Foolishness".

Harry laughed over the note, and then, leaving his things on the chair, taking just his wand and a couple of jars, a knife, his gloves, and his broom, Harry headed up to the third floor, to the girls' bathroom.

It was just as unused as always, but peaceful and calming in a strange way, not even the presence of Moaning Myrtle bothered him. The ghost had followed him the moment he stepped into the room and seemed content to just watch him, that is until he stepped towards the sink that had never quite functioned.

"Are you going down there again?" She asked.

"Yes," Harry said, turning to look at her.

"Can I come?"

Harry hesitated, but then nodded, "sure," he said.

"It's upset you know," she cried suddenly, "you never come to talk to me! No one ever does, really, but you promised you would during the Triwizard task, and then you never did."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, "but you know Voldemort returned and that made a big mess of things."

For some reason Myrtle nodded as if she completely understood his troubles, and then she said nothing more, but instead motioned for him to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Harry mused that there must be another entrance to the Chamber, this was clearly how the Basilisk got around, but what about Salazar Slytherin, or for that matter Tom? Harry had never wanted to look around the Chamber, and even now remembering that this was the place where he had destroyed that first Horcrux, he didn't know if he should go down there at all.

He looked intently at the spout and hissed "open" and just like back in his second year, the sink moved and allowed him to look down the pipe that he would have slide down. Going back up wouldn't be a problem, he would have his broom, but he didn't want to test his broom on the way down, for some reason he imagined that the result wouldn't be good, but this time he would not be dirty by the time he reached the bottom.

Waving his wand at the pipe and number of times with the same cleaning spell until his result as satisfactory, Harry sat down on the edge and looked up at Myrtle who motioned for him to go. He began the slide down, and after a few minutes fell right into the old carcasses of mice, and other such animals.

"Myrtle?" Harry asked, looking for the ghost and found her a little farther into the Chamber than he was, looking at the mostly collapsed cave.

He had forgotten about the mishap with Ron's wand and Lockheart, but just a few waves of his wand would fix that, or at least stabilize it enough for him to get through the rubble. He really should have brought Hermione with him, or Snape, or maybe even Ron.

Harry laughed a nervous laugh and brought out his wand again, waving it at the rocks, making some of them move so that a bigger hole was created and he could slip into the Chamber thought it. Then he tried hard to keep the rocks from moving so that it didn't collapse on him or itself and leave him trapped on the other side with only Myrtle for company.

As soon as he was positive that his spells would hold, Harry climbed through the whole and to the other side, and continued on to the next door that led directly to the actual Chamber—the place where he had fought the Basilisk, and where he had destroyed Riddle Diary, not knowing at the time, it's true importance.

Hissing open to this vault like door, Harry and Myrtle floating next to him waited for it to open and continued on inside. Harry had to stop, then, just within the Chamber, because right in front of him he could see the blood that had come from his very own arm, stained on the floor, with the fang next to it, a bloodied mess.

He walked forward, stumbling over his feet, and looked at the overly large snake and its skin, perfect for the taking. It was what he had come for.

"Goodness, that's what killed me, isn't it?" Myrtle asked.

Harry nodded solemnly. "Its gaze," he told the ghost who nodded as if she understood what he meant.

Harry stepped towards it, and knelt down to the closest part of the snake and brought out his knife from his pocket and then he cut into it. It was hard, but Harry knew better than to use magic. Magic would make the skin not exactly worthless but lose some of its potency which would both hurt their chances of making the Felix Felicis work, and not help Harry's case on how this was not at all Gryffindor Foolishness, when Harry presented the skin to him.

"What are you doing?" Myrtle asked.

Harry still so unused to her calm demeanor took a moment to answer, "I need some of this skin for a potion," he told her.

"Ah," she said, and then added, "You should take some for Professor Snape. He's a mean old bastard but he loves those potions, he does."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the accurate description of Snape, as he continued cutting as much as he could. At least, Harry mused, if Snape ever ran out, he wouldn't have to go far to find some.

Harry finished collecting the skin, and putting it in his jars, he put everything in his bag and then decided that since he wasn't going to be back in the Chamber of Secrets any time soon, he might as well look around. Myrtle followed after him as he walked around the Chamber, searching for another door, or just any sign that there was more to it. Slytherin must have had more than just his Basilisk down there after all, even after he left Hogwarts he must have left something behind. And then he saw the door.

It blended into the wall so well, that Harry had walked past it three times before he noticed the snake that was engraved on it and the well hidden doorknob.

"Open," Harry hissed. The door slid aside and he stepped into the room. It was to his surprise a library, of all things with books that must have been ancient, even Harry took the time to appreciate what he had found. He stood in the middle of the room and simply looked around, knowing that he would have to bring either Hermione or Snape down, knowing that they would appreciate this far more than he would.

Harry didn't dare touch any of the books, but he looked at some of the titles and noticed at once that Salazar Slytherin had books that were clearly written in Parseltongue. Harry looked through a few more of the titles and then walked farther into the room.

Other than the books, there were a few other things that Harry thought Dumbledore would like to get a good look at. Some items Harry didn't recognize at all, and others seemed almost familiar.

There was another door at the back of the room and Harry wondered what else he could find behind the door, but to his surprise it was a set of stairs that wound up.

"Do you know where this leads?" Myrtle asked.

"No," Harry admitted, looking up. He brought out his wand and muttered, "_lumos,_" before he continued up.

The stairs wound up for and seemed to be leading to somewhere above the Chamber, so Harry was pretty sure it was an exit from the Chamber, but still he continued on, wanting to know where the alternate entrance/exit was situated.

Harry stopped in front of a wooden door, with a snake engraved right in the middle of it, and hissed, "Open."

The door slid aside, into the wall next to it and revealed Harry to his father's sitting room. Harry laughed. Of course! Where else would an entrance to the Chamber of Secrets be, but in the Head of Slytherin's very own quarters?

In his excitement, Harry did not notice that Snape was back and looking at him questioningly.

Harry gave a nervous laugh. "I have something for you," he offered.

"What have you done to my wall, Harry?" Snape asked.

"Nothing," Harry said.

Snape cocked his head to the side.

"No, really, I did nothing," Harry said. "See, I've been meaning to tell you about what Hermione wants to do. She's decided that she will brew the Felix Felicis. I'm not exactly sure why. Anyway, one of the ingredients as you probably know is Basilisk skin, so Hermione sent me to get it."

"Of all the foolish things to do!" Snape said. "And tell me, where did you go to get it?"

"Oh, I stayed in the castle, don't worry," Harry told him. "I just went down to the Chamber of Secrets. You know, I killed a Basilisk down there."

For a moment Snape's eyes seemed to gleam at the possibilities of what that entailed and then he was glaring at Harry. "And what, you thought to take no one down there with you? You could have been trapped! Anything could have happened."

"I had Moaning Myrtle with me. Hmm, I wonder where she went. You probably scared her off, come to think of it."

Snape glared at him, and then asked in a calmer voice, "And my wall, what happened to it?"

"Well, you see, this is the other entrance to the Chamber. Much cleaner and easier to get down there than the other way, anyway I do have something for you. I thought you'd want some of the skin, but there are other things down there that might interest you. He had a small library down there."

Snape this time did not hide that he wanted to go down there. Harry smirked and stepped out of the way. "I have to go close the other entrance, but I can join you down there, if you like as soon as I'm done."

Snape seemed to consider everything and then he nodded. Harry dropped his things, and taking only his wand he left Snape's rooms to close the opening in the girls' bathroom, hoping that no one had entered the room and decided to explore further.

-

-

-

_February 21, 1997_

Harry had not been able to catch up with Hermione to tell her he had retrieved the Basilisk since Snape had caught him leaving the Chamber of Secrets. That night he and his father had spent some time together, sorting through all the books. It had been strange to see Snape's face light up every time he saw a rare book. It had been even stranger to read a book written in the snake language. He had only read a few paragraphs and then he had decided that it well wasn't worth his time, but he had made an attempt to write in the other language and had been quite surprised to see that he actually could use it.

The next night had been spent in the same manner, though this time, Snape had gone out to the Chamber to collect a few more things from the Basilisk that Harry had not thought of the day before. Adding to that, with classes, and everything else that was going on, Harry had not been able to find Hermione alone to give her the Basilisk skin, though he had kept it in his bag since he had gathered it.

So, Harry searched for Hermione in the common room.

"She's in the library I think," Lavender offered, looking up at him from her position curled up to Ron's side while he concentrated on beating Ginny at chess.

"Right, should have checked there," Harry said and left the common room.

Hermione was indeed in the library, but she was not alone. In fact, it was Draco Malfoy that Harry spotted first, before he even saw Hermione, and he was laughing all the while reaching for her hand and taking the quill she had been holding, and scribbling something down in her notebook.

Hermione frowned over his handwriting, but nodded and scribbled something more down.

"There, that should work," she said with a smile directed at Draco.

Harry looked on, stunned, not able to move closer to them or away from them, and then Hermione looked up and saw him. She gasped.

"Oh, Harry," she cried. "It isn't what it looks like," she said. "He is only helping me with something."

"If he was you would have told me you two were friends," Harry said.

"I didn't tell you, because of this, because of how you would react. The two of you have been enemies forever and I just knew you wouldn't like it. But you have to admit he has been acting better and he isn't anything like his father."

Harry found the irony in that statement and couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Draco is nothing like his father," Harry said and then, looking at Hermione's worried face continued with, "I wish you had told me, Hermione, but no matter. I don't mind. You can be friends with him."

Inside Harry was screaming every warning he could at her. Draco was not good. He wasn't at all like Lucius Malfoy. Harry had seen that in the Slytherin boy, and he didn't know if he could trust him or not. He didn't care that Hermione had friends in Slytherin, but this was Draco Malfoy and he worried Harry. He hoped for the sake of Hermione that she was right. But Draco was a death eater! In the back of his mind he knew that argument was futile, his father and Lucius Malfoy were both death eaters, and they were in the Order. It was just that Draco's alliances were unknown.

Harry sighed. "Fine. You know what, I don't care. I just—I hope he doesn't hurt you. I don't trust him." And then remembering what he had come to give her, he reached into his bag and pulled out the jar and handed it to her. "There you go, I was looking for you to give you that."

Hermione grinned and threw her arms around his neck like she had done when he agreed to help her. "Oh, thank you, Harry," She cried for everyone to hear, but to him in a silent whisper she said, "I know you're worried about me, but I'm a big girl. I wouldn't be his friend if I didn't know he was good."

Harry nodded. "Take care of yourself," he whispered back and then let her go, turned on his heel and left the library, not realizing that his robes had just done a good impression of his father's and that Draco Malfoy had frowned at the billowing as if he had seen a ghost.

**Author's Note: **hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. Next chapter should be up on wednesday. questions are always appreciated. please review.

-Erika


	30. Halcyon

**Author's Note: **Been meaning to update since I got home 8 hours ago...but I had tons of homework that just had to get done. In fact, I'm not finished yet, but I will be soon. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Thank you to everyone that reviewed and

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty  
_**

_Halcyon  
_

_March 9, 1997_

Harry didn't know why he had taken the book, but just something about it just lying in that bottom shelf, left and forgotten had made him pick it up and slip it into his bag. He knew Snape hadn't even noticed that the book had gone missing, and that was just as well, because Harry felt as if he should go back to the Potions classroom and return it without troubling himself about it. The book wasn't that important anyway, even though the few spells he had found in there seemed useful, and the potions help the book had offered had been more than welcome.

Deciding that he could just read the book, copy down some notes from it to help him in class and after that, well, after that he could just return it. Snape wouldn't miss it, not when he had all the books that had once belonged to Salazar Slytherin to diverse himself in.

With those thoughts in mind, Harry continued to the room where his, Hermione's, and L.M.'s potion was kept. He had yet to figure out the identity of the person that was helping with the potion. At first he had suspected Draco Malfoy, but the initials didn't fit for one, and for another, Hermione wouldn't trust him this much, would she?

Harry tried to ignore the feeling deep in his gut that told him that he should investigate the matter further. After arriving in the room and checking that no one else was around, Harry slipped into the room and walked directly to the potion. The spells Hermione had placed on the potion and on the small pad next to it had worked out great. Harry read over the last things that had been done to the potion and then walked to the bookshelf which now held not only the books that they could consult concerning the potion, but which also had all of their supplies, grabbing a small bottle of crushed leaves which he knew Hermione had collected herself, he walked back, opening the bottle, and dropped about a pinch into the potion. The effect was immediate—the potion fizzed, and then turned a deep lilac, which was exactly what it was supposed to do. Now Harry had to just stir counterclockwise four times, once clockwise, and then the most important part—the spell.

Harry had been quite unused to using magic in potions, until they had begun doing just that three weeks earlier. He had decided that his shock at being able to use magic in the Potions classroom came from Snape's speech at the beginning of his first year, granted now he understood the reasoning behind all of that. Every potion that required some sort of spell to balance out the ingredients, or just because it would add a certain something to the potion was even more volatile than any potion that was just as hard but did not require a spell. Every spell had to be precise and to the point and anything could go wrong when casting it.

Harry waited until he saw that the potion had stopped rotating after his stirs and then swished his wand above the potion until a cold mist had fallen above it. Harry smiled. It looked just as it had been described in the book.

Making sure that everything had been written just as he had done it on the pad, Harry walked back out of the room, making sure once more that no one was prowling in the halls.

Harry took his time going up to the Gryffindor common room where Hermione had taken to asking him if he was alright. After she had realized that he was having a hard time sleeping, Hermione had given him a number of potions that she had researched well and that would help him fall asleep and stay asleep for at least seven hours. At first Harry had been quite angry with her, but after a while he had decided that it was best to just go along with him. The best part about her potions was not that they took away his dreams, but that they managed to twist whatever dream he was having into a pleasant dream. However, now that Hermione knew that Harry was getting sleeping, she was constantly pestering him about what his dreams had been in the first place, which was something that Harry did not want to tell her, due to the questions that would be evoked if he did.

When he entered the common room, it was to the usually conversations over homework, or games. He nodded at a couple of people as they waved at him and made his way to his friends. Ron was glaring at Hermione from over the top of a book. Hermione was ignoring him completely and chatting with Ginny.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Hermione and across from Ginny.

Ginny laughed. "Hermione and Lavender ganged up on him to do his homework. With the quidditch game tomorrow and everything he won't have time, will he?"

"What is he working on?" Harry asked.

"Charms essay," Hermione said. She then proceeded to narrow her eyes at Harry. "You did finish yours, didn't you Harry?"

Harry indeed had not, but unlike Ron he had written half of it.

"Almost done," he told Hermione. "I need just about half of it. I was planning on working on it before the match and after."

"Party tomorrow, though," Ginny pointed out. "You left last time, Mr. Seeker."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I'll stay this time and work on my essay."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to protest, but then closed her mouth. "Fine," she said. "Just get it done."

-

-

-

_March 10, 1997_

It was thankfully not as cold as it had been at the last match, Harry decided, as he walked down to the locker rooms with the rest of the team. Ginny and Ron made a great team as captains, which had been something that Harry had noticed during the last practice which had been the only one Harry had managed to attend other than the one during which he had talked to Ron. The team was well off with Ginny who seemed to know how to play every position, and with Ron who knew nearly every maneuver in quidditch.

"Fred and George are coming to this match," Ginny told Harry from behind him.

"Yeah? Any reason other than to support the team?"

"I think Dumbledore wanted to talk to them about something. Order business, you know." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, they told me to tell you they also wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, really?" Harry asked.

"Something about their shop I should think," she said. "You know, they might decided to use you as their way of advertisement. I mean if you're using their products who wouldn't, right? I don't know."

Harry laughed. That sounded exactly like the twins.

They changed quickly enough and then the team was congregated around Ginny. Ron had motioned for her to speak, and even though Harry could see she was nervous at giving her first pep talk she also looked excited.

"It's Slytherin today," Ginny said, "and I have a bit of news that I have not been willing to share until right now, even though I don't think it will make much of a difference. We are stronger. We've trained harder. Harry is the best seeker at Hogwarts—and don't even try to deny it, Harry. We have a two brilliant beaters, and an excellent keeper. Romilda you are one of the best flyers I know, and Katie you are just amazing. This is our year, guys, we can do this! We can win the cup!"

"And the news?" Ron asked.

"Oh, right," Ginny said, blushing scarlet. She looked around at her team, and then smiled directly at Harry. "Draco Malfoy isn't playing."

"What?" Harry asked, feeling almost aghast. "He's the only competition I ever have and he's not playing! He pretended to have a broken arm so his team wouldn't have to lose against us in third year! He provoked me into a fight last year because we won, and now he's just not playing—just like that!"

Ginny nodded. "I was told he wasn't going to play this match or the ones that precede this one, only two days ago. It was his decision to make, so their seeker is inexperienced playing out there. He or she has been at their practices but this will be his or her first time playing."

"Don't underestimate who ever it is," Harry muttered, but he was wondering what Draco could possibly want with not wanting to play quidditch.

Harry continued frowning until they were called out onto the field. After they had kicked off and Ginny's hand had been crushed by the new Slytherin Captain Harry looked around, and tried to spot the Slytherin's seeker, and then almost fell off his broom when he saw the first year that had seen him enter the Great Hall late on the first night back. Her black hair was in a bun, and her brown eyes looked around the pitch curiously as she sat upon her Nimbus 2001. She looked nervous but also seemed to just emit a certain confidence and power. Harry stared at her in wonder, and followed her movements but couldn't even begin to imagine that she was good at quidditch. Her small body seemed built for the part, but was she as good a flyer as Draco, and did she have the skill to take the deep dives and to capture the snitch?

"Well, there they go, and I think everyone is surprised at Potter giving up his Captaincy some weeks back—but, anyway, on to the match I suppose…"

Harry rolled his eyes at the commentator and began to circle the pitch. The Slytherin seeker trailed him. She was a magnificent flyer. Every small move she made was perfectly executed.

Harry stopped suddenly and she came to stop a few inches away from him. She was grinning.

"Hello," Harry said.

"Hi," she said and gave him a small wave, and then added, "You're Harry Potter."

"That, I am," Harry said with a laugh. "I didn't catch your name."

"Elissa Harper," she answered.

"You're a good flyer. I wonder if you're even better than I was back in my first year."

She blushed. "I know I'm probably not," she said.

"I don't know," he said. "With a bit more practice and with years of experience you could be great." He looked around the pitch once more, and then asked, "What happened to Draco?"

"Oh, he had detention, will have it for the rest of the year from what I heard. He actually tried to come play, but Professor Snape dragged him back to his classroom. He looked furious."

This was the first that Harry had heard of Draco's detention with his father and he frowned. What could Draco have done to get detention for so long a time?

-

-

-

"Good catch, mate," Seamus said and pat him on the back, as Harry entered the Gryffindor common room with Ginny and Ron. Hermione had gone missing somewhere in the crowds and they had lost her, so now he looked around the common room, wondering if she had gotten there already, but she was no where to be found.

"Are you going to work on your essay?" Ginny asked him with a smirk.

"No, of course, not," Harry told her. "Tomorrow before class will be best, I think."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Don't tell Hermione."

"Oh, she knows I do better under pressure."

Ginny laughed and walked away, still shaking her head. Harry rolled his eyes and went to join Ron and Lavender by the fire.

"Great catch, Harry," Lavender said. She passed him a butterbeer and turned back to Ron who was describing in great detail the best save he had done during the game.

Harry rolled his eyes but commended Lavender silently for sitting there listening with a smile. Harry decided then that she really must like Ron, unless she was in love with him. Harry observed the two and found that the indulgent smile, and the way Lavender looked at Ron was loving and nothing less of that. Harry wondered if Ron knew about Lavender's devotion to him, but decided that he didn't need to get involved in business that wasn't his own. It was enough that his friend was happy.

Harry enjoyed himself at the victory party, hanging out with the rest of the team and other Gryffindors that he rarely ever saw anymore, but Hermione never returned from the match.

"Hey, have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked Ron.

He shook his head.

It Lavender who answered his question, "She said she had to go to the library—I wonder why she hasn't come back."

Harry knew why. She was with Draco Malfoy. He shrugged and turned away from them, wondering if he should go to the library to see if she was alright. He shook his head and decided to instead get some reading of the Half-Blood Prince's book done.

He brought it out of his bag and tapped the cover, making sure that the book looked like his own copy of the potions book, and then he began to flip through the pages.

"You're reading, Potter, is this party so boring that you must read!"

Harry closed the book at once and turned.

"I was wondering when you two would show up!" Harry said. "You know the party isn't a party until you show up."

"Ah, he has a point, Fred," George said.

George nodded with a laugh, and then leaped over the sofa Harry had been sitting on and sat next to him, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"I heard the two of you had to talk to me," Harry said.

"Oh, yes, we do," Fred said, walking around the sofa and sitting down on the chair opposite it. "First, I think we should party for the Gryffindor victory. I was really surprised. She almost had you, Potter."

Harry laughed. "She's better than I was at her age," he told them.

"Ah, Slytherin will have it's win once you're out of here," George said, and then added, "Your beaters are nowhere near as good as Fred and I, you must have noticed."

Harry laughed. "I couldn't find anyone better than those two."

"Oy, Fred!" Ron called from across the room, throwing a butterbeer their way.

George snapped it out of the air and handed it to Fred, clapping for Ron to throw another, which he did. This time it was Fred who caught it and handed it to his twin. Harry watched them with a small spark of amusement.

"So what brings you to Hogwarts other than the quidditch match?" Harry asked.

"Order business," Fred whispered. "Not something to talk about out in the open, but that was only one reason we came."

Harry didn't know if he wanted to know what the other was. "So, what else did you come here for?"

"We wanted to ask you to let us make a copy of—" George began in a whisper.

Fred cut him off with a look. "We shouldn't talk about this in the open," Fred said.

Harry stood up, "Come up to my dorm, then, we can talk up there," he told them curious as to what they could possibly want to make a copy of.

Once they had made it up to Harry's dorm, Harry muttered, "_Muffliato_" and then nodded for them to speak.

"We want to make a copy of your patronus," Fred said. "It's for the order, really. There are so many people that can make them and the latest reconnaissance has informed us that Voldemort is planning to get full use of his dementors soon, so we're trying to make copies of a number of different patronus and we thought yours would be great to have. Anyhow, the patronus would be within an object and it would basically protect anyone from a dementor."

"We've been developing a number of things for the order," George said. "Mostly defensive, and we never thought of this until recently. Anyway, we need to go through a lot of tests on it, and yours is really the most powerful we have encountered, and we need many different ones to test, so—"

"Will you let us make a copy of it?" Fred finished his brother's sentence.

Harry nodded. "Of course."

The twins grinned at him and then brought out their wands simultaneously.

-

-

-

_March 17, 1997_

Harry gave a weary sigh as he, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall after their first ever apparition lesson. It had been strange, trying to actually apparate, and no one had actually managed to do it. There had been two splinchings but other than that nothing obviously exciting had b

"Obviously it's hard," Hermione told Harry and Ron. "I think I almost managed it that last time, but I don't think I was concentrating hard enough."

Ron snorted. "Could you concentrate with that ministry wizard harping on the entire time about the three D's?"

"That did get annoying near the end," Harry admitted.

"Just annoying?" Ron asked, laughing, but then he turned and discontinued their conversation by wrapping an arm around Lavender who had been coming up behind them. "See you guys later?"

Hermione nodded. She and Harry watched them leave and then Hermione turned to Harry. "I have to go check on the potion, want to come?"

"Promised Remus I would visit him and help with his grading. He also wanted my opinion on something."

"Alright," Hermione said. "I'll see you later, then." She turned to walk away, but then stopped and looked at Harry with a strange expression. "We changed," she said softly, "all three of us; you, me, Ron. Now we're all doing so much by ourselves and the time we spend together is sometimes just forced."

"That's not true, Hermione," Harry said. "Things are just not as easy they were once. There is a war out there and—"

"That is why we should be getting closer not farther apart," Hermione said. "Look, Remus is waiting for you, and I have to get to the potion. We'll talk about it later, yes?"

Harry nodded, with a sigh and watched her go, before turning and walking up the stairs.

Remus was making tea when Harry entered his office.

"I wondered when you'd get here, Harry," Remus said with a smile. "Sit, sit. I'll get us some tea and biscuits."

Harry sat down in a soft armchair and watched Remus as he poured two cups of tea and set down a plate of biscuits between them.

"I hear you are doing much better with Severus these days," Remus said. "I rather like that the two of you are getting along much better."

Harry shrugged. "He's okay—I've learnt to accept him as he is, I guess."

Remus laughed. "I think we all have to accept him the way he is to get along with him."

Harry chuckled as he stirred sugar into his tea. They fell into a comfortably silence, and then Harry, taking a biscuit spoke. "What did you want to show me?"

"I wanted an opinion on a ring," Remus said with a bright smile.

"A ring?" Harry asked. "Do I look like I know anything about rings?"

Remus laughed. "No, Harry, but I thought you might help me chose out of two possibilities."

"And who would this ring be for?" Harry asked, interested in the direction that their conversation was taking.

"It's for Dora, actually," Remus said, and an expression of pure love crossed his face.

Harry found that he couldn't help but smile at Remus. "Tonks, right?" He asked.

Remus nodded and then opened a drawer of his desk and brought out two small boxes that were clearly engagement rings. For a moment Harry wondered how Remus had even been able to purchase either of those rings, when he remembered that Sirius had left some money to Remus.

Both rings were beautiful. The first was gold, and looked very much like a teardrop. The square diamond sat at the top, with the silver band not meeting, but holding the diamond in between giving the impression of being teardrop shaped to anyone that looked at it. The second ring, however, was much simpler. It was another gold ring, and the diamond once more was in a square cut, but it sat simply at the top with diamond clusters on the side. Harry liked this one better, it called Tonks much more than the first.

"I like both," Harry said. "But this one is what I would expect Tonks to use rather than the other one, don't you think?"

"I picked that one first," Remus said, "and then I found this one. I've been unsure about this whole business for a while now."

"So you're asking her to marry you," Harry said. "I'm surprised. I mean, I sort of expected the two of you were together I just didn't think it was so serious."

"I love her, Harry," Remus said. "She lights up my day like only ever Sirius, James, and even Peter did."

**Author's Note: **I really liked this chapter. It was really very simple and filler like...but it does set up things for later. I didn't feel like going into detail on apparition lessons, after all we've all read it...lol...and really I found that quite boring. I was going to change how they learned it, but in the end I couldn't find a way to fit it in right. Anyway, next chapter gets much more exciting. I'll be updating friday...or perhaps saturday.

I'm still working on ch. 3 of the sequel for those wondering how that's going, and I've a tiny little bit of writer's block at the moment but hopefully that will go away. Other than that please review and questions are always welcome. I have updated my profile with new pictures for this fic, so if you're interested go check them out.

-Erika


	31. Altercation

**Author's Note: **This was a really hard chapter to write. I just couldn't get it the way I originally wanted it. And then when I did so much was still wrong with it and I had to keep working on it. It didn't help that by this point I had written like six chapters in three to four days and this one was just taking me a week. I still think it needs a lot of work, but I feel alright with it. This chapter does incorporate some stuff from HBP and basically it is nothing like the last chapter you just read. This was not beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty One  
_**

_Altercation  
_

_April 7, 1997_

Harry had the book in his hands. He was going to return it, and this time nothing was going to get in his way of doing so. He had tried many times already, and found that someone was watching him, or he had left the book in his dorm, or as had happened too many times to count, he had completely forgotten about it. He had read only a fraction of the comments throughout the book, and even though he wanted to know more about it, he knew it would only be a few more days before Snape either needed the book or he found that someone had taken it, and then he would be in an even fouler mood – like the one he had been in all week.

Harry didn't in particular understand what had made his father go back to acting like his old self even to him, but he knew it had something to do with Draco Malfoy and Draco's detentions. Harry had seen the way Snape seemed to now glare at the younger Malfoy at every chance he got, though he tried to hide it most of the time. As a death eater – even a spy – he could not allow the children of Death Eaters to tell their parents that Snape had for some reason turned on them. It was something that Snape had explained to him a while back for the reasons he favored the Slytherins so much, even though, Harry knew, Snape also really hated Gryffindor and thought that Slytherins were most often treated unfairly, so he needed to be the balancing factor that gave the other houses the unfairness that all Slytherins were treated with outside of the dungeons.

So, to not return the book was out of the question, even though Harry was almost sure that some of the scribbles all over the book belonged to Snape, some of them had another author, most of them did in fact. It was those that Harry knew more or less, belonged to the Half-Blood Prince. And what a brilliant person he had been!

Harry left the Gryffindor common room and walked down the stairs to a small slab of stone that he pushed aside. He slipped through the small hole that had been formed and closed it behind him all the while lighting his wand. He walked down the secret passage calmly, very glad that he could miss the entire population of Hogwarts this way. The passage would leave him off right by the bathroom in the seventh floor. It was not a passage that had been marked on the map, but one that Snape had told him about.

A few minutes later, Harry was walking down the seventh floor corridor, towards the stairs, and then he heard a crash and then a yelp. He sprinted down the corridor to see what it was, wand at the ready, and suddenly found himself face to face with Professor Trelawney.

She was crouching down trying to gather a number of empty sherry bottles and putting them back into a small crate.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

She looked up and seemed to shudder as she finished gathering the bottles. Harry rushed to her side and helped her up.

"Thank you, dear boy," she said and hiccupped loudly. She fixed the beaded necklaces around her neck and then pushed her glasses up her nose.

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"I was heading to the room of requirement," she told him, "when I was suddenly in a vision, and of course as you well know, Harry, one must stop and pay attention to such things. I then dropped my – well, my things fell. It's the second time this vision has come to me, young Harry, but Dumbledore doesn't care to listen to me."

Harry highly doubted that the vision Professor Trelawney had had was at all important, but he was curious as to what she would be sharing with Dumbledore, that he found himself asking, "What was the vision about?"

"Oh, dear boy, you're the only one that could care to ask. Well, if you must know," she said, and then in her mystic histrionic voice, "the lightning struck tower. Calamity. Disaster. Coming nearer all the time…"

Harry decided it was just one of her many fake predictions. "Right," he said.

Trelawney smiled brightly at him as if just by that she knew that he had believed her. "I miss having you in my classes, Harry," she said. "You're one of the few students that never doubted my ability—"

Harry almost snorted at that.

"—but you must have heard those rumors that I have no inherited my great-great-grandmother's gift. So many people believe that. You know what I say to those people, Harry? Would Dumbledore have let me teach at his great school, put so much trust in me all these years, had I not proved myself to him?"

When Harry said nothing, thinking about the real reason Dumbledore kept her around, she continued:

"I well remember my first interview with Dumbledore. He was deeply impressed, of course, deeply impressed….I was staying at the Hog's Head, which I do not advice, incidentally – bedbugs, dear boy – but funds were low. Dumbledore did me the courtesy of calling upon me in my room. He questioned me….I must confess that, at first, I thought he seemed ill-disposed toward Divination…and I remember I was starting to feel a little odd, had I not eaten much that day…but then…"

Harry knew what came next. She told the prophecy that had altered his entire life, the prophecy about him and Voldemort, and someone would over hear it – a death eater that would run to Voldemort and tell him only a fraction of it in his excitement.

"…but then we were rudely interrupted by Severus Snape!"

It took a moment for it to all sink in, and then he yelled, "WHAT!" And before Professor Trelawney could say anything else, Harry was off, down the corridor to the stairs, and then he running down them, managing somehow to not trip over his own feet.

He managed to forget the number of ways he could have gone to get there quicker, instead he was running down the halls and stairs with abandon, anger rooting inside him. How could Snape have gone and told Voldemort the prophecy? How could his father be the reason that his mother was dead? Had he hated James that much?

Any other logical thought no longer resided in his brain and he continued running to the dungeons. Forgetting about the book, ignoring the fact that other students were looking at him as if he had finally gone crazy. He ignored Ginny when she tried to ask what was wrong with him, and pushed Neville away. He needed to get to the dungeons and he needed to demand an answer from Snape. How could he have done something like that?

Harry pushed the door to Snape's quarters open. It hit the wall behind it and made a loud crash. Harry ignored it. He bounded inside.

Snape had stood up, wand at the ready, and lowered it the moment he saw Harry, and then he noticed the power that was practically surrounding Harry in sparks and his eyes narrowed. Something had happened. Snape waved his wand at the door, watching Harry closely.

"How could you!" Harry yelled, suddenly. "It was your fault. I know you hated him, but even he said you were friends later. How could you do that to them! To me?"

Snape didn't answer; instead he crossed the room and walked closer to Harry. Harry took a few steps back.

"Harry, please calm down, and we can talk about whatever it is that has made you this angry." Snape motioned towards a chair, and stepped back to let Harry pass him, to the sitting room.

"No!" Harry yelled and backed up even more so that he was only a few feet from the door. "Don't come anywhere near me! I – I can't stand to even look at you. You disgust me! You're just a fucking Death Eater, aren't you? That's all you've ever been."

Snape's eyes widened, and then anger flushed his face. "How dare you speak to me like that, you ungrateful brat!" Snape yelled, even though in the back of his head he knew that this was the worst possible path to take. "I have given up so much to take care of you like the headmaster wants, you have no right to come in here and yell at me about who knows what."

Harry simply laughed as if he was unaffected by Snape's words. Snape noticed at once that it wasn't his usual laugh. This was a humorless laugh, cold and sad, and it reminded him so much of Voldemort.

"What, you don't know what I'm talking about?" Harry asked. His voice had taken an almost mocking tone. "I'm talking about the fact that you were the one that killed my parents."

Snape sneered. "If you didn't notice, Harry, I am your father," he coolly informed him.

"No," Harry said in a loud whisper. "James and Lily, they were my parents. They would never have done what you've done."

"What did I do?" Snape asked, his voice shaking though Harry failed to notice that, what he did notice was the anger that shone in his eyes.

"What? Surprised I would find out about your dirty little secret?" Harry asked in a yell. "You are the reason they are dead, Snape! You are the reason I grew up with the Dursleys, living in a cupboard for ten years! You are the reason I never had anything decent to wear. You are the reason I never had anyone until I came to this school, and even now I have no one."

Snape said nothing, but Harry could tell that he was readying himself to hurl some nasty remark his way, so Harry continued, "You told him the prophecy! You were the one that told him the prophecy that would lead to their death!"

Snape's face paled. He clenched his jaw as if he didn't want to let out what he so wanted to say to Harry.

"You're such a coward, Snape," Harry said. "I hate you, I wish—"

Snape cut in, yelling, "You know nothing about what happened, Potter! Nothing! I will not discuss this with you. These are things that you know nothing about, and you cannot come down here and yell at me about them."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but before he could Snape was speaking, this time in a deadly whisper. "You have done me every disrespect tonight, Potter, get out! Just get out! Our lessons are finished. I do not want to see you outside of class again! You are no son of mine."

Harry nodded and with a flick of his hand the door opened and he left. As soon as he was out in the corridor he once more too off at a run. He couldn't go back to Gryffindor tower. Trelawney was probably still in the seventh floor. There was no where in the school where he could be alone, without anyone bothering him. Without thinking about where he was going, Harry walked up the stairs. After a few minutes of silent walking, his hands clenched into fists, Harry knew where he was headed – the unused girl's bathroom in the third floor, and to the Chamber of Secrets.

-

-

-

Severus sunk to the floor, against the wall. His hands were shaking and he could hear how hard his heart was beating. How could Harry have accused him of being the reason for Lily's death? He who had loved Lily more than anyone else?

Severus replayed the memory of Harry entering his room, at first he had assumed it was someone from the order, or an attacker, and his wand had been ready for whatever was to come, but then he had seen Harry. He had looked so angry, and so powerful, Severus realized with a shudder. Harry could have hurt him so easily, or hurt himself in his anger. Severus sighed.

How had Harry come to the conclusion that he had told the prophecy to Voldemort? How did he know what had happened so many years before? How could he have blamed him for the deaths of two people that he cared so much about, anyway?

Severus rubbed his face with his hands and tried to evaporate his anger. He couldn't for a few minutes, and then with the help of occlusion, with his walls tightly up he began to relax and with it came the realization of what he had said to Harry – what he had yelled at his son. He had practically told him that he wanted nothing to do with him, that Dumbledore had forced him to take him in and that it was only under Dumbledore's orders that he dealt with him.

Severus felt his heart sink.

He had always hated his temper. It was what had lost him Lily, and now it was what would lose him Harry. The boy had angered him so easily with his accusations. Didn't he realize how guilty he felt about everything? Didn't Harry know that he, Severus, had had to tell Voldemort about the prophecy because at the time he hadn't realized that it related to Harry in any way? Why hadn't Harry seen it all logically? Come to talk to him about it, and ask his questions? Why did he allow himself to use that Gryffindor foolishness and come barging into his room and demand answers?

He would lose Harry, Severus realized then. Harry was too sensitive. He was too much like his mother to not take everything Severus had yelled at him personally. He knew Harry – Harry was proud. If Severus ever saw him come back into his rooms it would be with his head held high and he would only come back into his quarters to retrieve anything he had left in his room there, and then he would leave and Severus would only ever see him in class, where he couldn't even be nice to him. Severus doubted the boy would even show up to any detentions he gave him. Dumbledore would not doubt be on Harry's side.

Severus stood up and paced around the room. He needed to fix this. He needed to tell Harry he hadn't meant a word of it. Where had the boy gone? He couldn't have gone back to Gryffindor tower, Harry wouldn't be stupid enough to do that. Then where would he have gone?

Then it hit him, the map. Harry had left it in his room. Severus rushed to Harry's room and looked for the map, but not even a summoning charm brought him the map. Maybe he had taken it back to Gryffindor.

Severus sighed and decided he would just use a point me charm.

Waving his wand, Severus rushed out of his rooms with his improved spell and followed it up the stairs to the third floor. He walked down the corridor, looking out for anyone that cause trouble, but saw no one, and then he saw Remus Lupin.

"Severus," the werewolf said, looking at the arrow floating in front of Severus pointing him down the hall.

Severus wanted to just push Lupin aside and continue on his way to his son, but Lupin seemed concerned.

"I saw Harry running down the halls earlier, do you know what's wrong? Neville and Ginny came to me to ask me that exact same thing. Apparently he had this crazed look about him as if he was readying himself to kill someone, and power was just floating about him. Then a few minutes ago I saw him walking calmly down the hall, he didn't even hear me when I called his name. What could be wrong? I was just about the fetch you, actually."

Severus watched the lycanthrope as he shifted his feet. Severus glared at him and without saying a thing walked past him.

"Severus!" He called. "Severus! Fine, then, I'll go to the headmaster."

Severus waved him off and continued following his spell, hoping that it wasn't too late and that Harry would listen to reason. He had been angry too, after all. They had both said terrible things. They could get through this.

The point-me-spell led Severus to the broken down girl's bathroom, and Severus had to stop right outside and perform the spell again, before he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The sight that met him was not one he expected at all.

The sinks had been pulled apart, the entrance of the Chamber of Secrets was open. Harry stood, shaking, his wand pointed at the body of Draco Malfoy, which lay in the middle of the bathroom. A number of cuts covered the too pale skin, and already a puddle of blood had formed.

Severus couldn't stop the anger that bubbled inside for the second time that day, as he ran to Draco's side, reaching for Draco's wrist. What had Harry done? As much as Draco had been getting on his nerves and he had found himself fantasizing about getting Draco out of the way, he had never wanted this for the boy. He looked at Harry, who seemed almost paralyzed standing by Draco, and Severus suddenly began to wonder where he had found that spell. It was of his own creation and he hadn't taught him this spell. It was dark magic, true, but he had never taught him any spell that would kill someone painfully like this one. Lucius wouldn't have known about the spell, or dared to teach Harry it, if he did know about it. Unless…no, Harry couldn't have seen his old potions book, could he have?

He shot Harry a glare, and then yelled, all the while allowing himself to hope that Draco would be alright, from the slight feel of Draco's pulse. "Where did you learn this spell, Potter?"

"I – I," Harry said, making a chocking noise.

"Well?" Severus asked. "You can't yell at me now, can you, boy? And you call me a coward."

Harry had turned deadly pale.

"What? Nothing to say for yourself, Potter? You disgust me." Severus waved his wand over the more serious cuts and healed them.

Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but then turned away.

"What? You want to crow at your victory against Draco, is that why you are turned away? You are nothing but a child, Potter, if you take such triumph in having created this mess."

This time he got a reaction from Harry. "Shut up!" he yelled. "Shut up, shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Funny how that happens, isn't it, Harry?" Severus asked, knowing that what he was doing would not help matters, but not allowing himself to stop.

Harry glared at him. "I really wish you weren't my father," Harry whispered. "You know, I came here and I was feeling terrible about what I said. I was even turning to leave when Draco – but now I know I was right. You're a bastard, Snape, and I wish you weren't my father."

Severus opened his mouth and then closed it again. He watched Harry leave and said nothing, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. Everything had been said. He had lost his temper again, and Harry was not going to forgive him this time. Severus felt something wet on his cheek and at first thought it was blood from Draco, and then it fell onto the floor and Severus realized that for the first time for as long as he could remember he was crying. This time it wasn't about losing Lily, but about losing Harry – it was about losing his son.

Draco groaned on the floor. Severus ignored him for a second, and looked to where Harry had stood last, and wished Harry was still standing there and that he could explain that he had been angry about Harry using magic in this way, using a spell that he himself had created years before to show Voldemort that he would be useful within his ranks.

Severus shook his head and turned back to Draco who was still unconscious and deadly pale. He continued fixing a few more cuts, until he had gotten everything that was too serious to not take care of at that moment. He then levitated Draco off the floor and hoped that he would be alright after a few potions administered by Madame Pomfrey. It would take Draco about a week to get better from this curse, the loss of blood along with the fact that Draco hadn't exactly been eating of late would see to that.

-

-

-

Harry felt Remus wrap his arms around him and stop him on his sprint down the corridor. He knew it was Remus from the smell of chocolate that engulfed him almost instantly. He felt almost peaceful and at ease. Remus pulled away, only enough so that he could grasp Harry's shoulders and look down at his face.

"Are you alright?" Remus asked. "You look so pale, Harry."

Harry barely moved and instead sunk into the body of his teacher and friend, letting himself simply be comforted and held like he had not once been comforted as a child, but even the soothing rhythm in which Remus breathed, and the calming circles he drew on his back did not keep his thoughts at bay. He had felt so bad after he had arrived in the bathroom. He had made to turn and leave and go talk to Snape again, this time calmer. He had overreacted after talking to Trelawney and he knew it and he had wanted nothing more than to go apologize to the man, and then Draco had stepped out of a stall, his eyes red as if he had been crying, and then Draco's wand had been pointed at his chest and he had looked murderous.

"Are you alright?" Harry had asked, stepping towards him, ignoring the wand pointed at him.

"Leave, Potter," Draco had said in his bored tone which he used when he was trying to hide his true feelings about a matter. "Go on, leave. And if you tell anyone, so help me I will cut you up into tiny little pieces, and don't think I can't do it!"

Harry hadn't doubted that Draco could very well do that to him, but in his still stressed perspective he had said, "No. I can very well stay here and you can do nothing about it."

"Then it will be much more painful for you, Potter!" Draco had yelled, brandishing his wand about as if that alone would scare Harry off and make him leave the girl's bathroom, but Harry felt as if he needed to confront the Slytherin, maybe it was his anger from what had happened with Snape, or just the need to fight Draco Malfoy who had for the most part that year not done anything suspicious except get months of detention with Snape.

"Oh, you won't do anything, will you, Draco?" Harry asked, tauntingly, then, making up his decision to not leave even more concrete.

"I won't will I?" Draco asked, and then he had shouted, "Crucio!" his wand pointed directly at Harry.

Harry who had not expected an unforgivable just managed to throw himself away from the spell. It was this that had opened his eyes to the fact that Draco was also not in his right mind. He had quickly run to the sink and hissed at it to open. He had almost thrown himself down to the Chamber of Secrets, when Draco hit him with a spell that made him fly into the wall.

Harry had brought out his wand then, feeling a little dizzy at having hit the wall so hard, and shot out a stunner, which missed Draco by a few centimeters which would not have happened, Harry knew, if he hadn't just been thrown into the wall. Thinking quickly for a spell, then, Harry used the first thing that had come to mind. The spell he had seen in the Half-Blood Prince's book, the one labeled to be used on enemies, "_Sectumsempra_!"

Draco fell back the moment the force of the spell hit him, just as a number of bloody cuts began to appear on his body. Some of them were deeper than others and looked to practically be spurting out blood, while others were only thin shallow cuts that barely allowed a small drop of blood to dribble out of them. Harry quickly rushed towards him and tried the one healing spell that he knew, but it didn't help at all, and Draco was losing blood faster than anything. He was also looking quite faint. Harry tried yet another spell and realized that it was something he would have to work on. Healing spells were important, maybe Hermione would help him study them if he ever got out of his current predicament. When nothing happened a couple of minutes later, and then Draco's eyes rolled to the back of his head before his eyelids closed, Harry stood still, wand still extended toward Draco. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. He just watched as Draco's blood pooled around him. And then Snape entered the bathroom.

At first, when realizing that Draco might live, and he wouldn't have to worry about being a murderer, Harry had been glad to see Snape, and then the man had begun on him, while looking down at Draco as if the pale, blond haired boy meant the world. It had angered Harry much more than hearing about Snape being the reason for Lily's death, so he had turned away, trying to keep everything Snape said to him out of his thoughts so that he wouldn't be angered further. He hadn't wanted to see Snape's hands running over Draco's damaged skin almost caressingly, or to see the worried expression, or for that matter the anger that Harry felt Snape throwing at him through his eyes.

And then Snape had acted as if Harry was happy that Draco was on the floor possibly dying, and that had been the breaking point. Harry regretted his words then more than even what he had said in Snape's quarters, but he also knew Snape would not accept an apology now, especially if Draco died which he hoped was not a possibility. Even though Draco had been his enemy for most of his Hogwarts years and even though Draco had tried to hit him with the Cruciatus, Harry did not wish him dead.

"It's alright, Harry," Harry barely heard Remus whispering into his hair, all the while rocking him back and forth and holding him to his chest.

Harry realized then that he was clutching at Remus' robes, and that he was crying. He tried to pull away from Remus, but Remus did not allow it and Harry didn't fight him knowing that it would be futile to try to get away from the one person that seemed to not want to even know what Harry had done, but wanted to only know that he was alright.

"It's alright. I don't mind. We don't have to talk about it. Just cry it all out. It will work out in the end," Remus murmured at him as if he had heard Harry's thoughts.

Harry couldn't help but let out a harsh laugh, and suddenly he wondered why he was even bothering to cry or to mourn the relationship that he and Snape had had – if they had had a relationship to begin with. After all, hadn't Snape told him himself that Dumbledore had forced Snape to spend time with Harry, quite unlike how Snape spent time with Draco – he did it because he wanted to. Snape had told him, himself – it was on Dumbledore's orders that Snape had even allowed him to stay with him before school started. Christmas and their lessons had probably been just the same. And now Snape probably hated him more than ever. He had almost killed Draco Malfoy. Draco who was Snape's favorite student whom Snape probably liked spending time with.

**Author's Note: **I will admit that this chapter was a hard one...I didn't think I could do it even, but it had to happen...and this was a chapter that was planned from the very beginning so it had to happen. I guess I'd love to know what you think about it...along with of course whatever other comments you want to make. Questions are always welcome. Please review.

-Erika


	32. The Plot is Set

**Author's Note: **Thank you to anyone that reviewed, you guys are great. I don't think I have anything else to say, just enjoy. This chapter wasn't beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty Two  
_**

_The Plot is Set  
_

_April 8, 1997_

Harry didn't exactly feel comfortable, walking down the halls headed towards the Hospital Wing where he knew Draco would be, probably whining about not being able to leave the overly white, sterilized room that Harry had spent more than enough time in through the years to find that he would quite agree with Draco's whining. Harry also felt completely and utterly guilty, and this was the driving force behind Harry making his way to one of the places he hated most in the castle.

After spending the night in Remus' rooms, and ignoring the fact that his friends would be worried sick about him, not to mention everyone else that had seen him tearing through the halls like a maniac, Harry had woken up to a very calm view of the world, in which he had decided exactly what his next actions would be – which included apologizing to Draco Malfoy for nearly killing him, though rather unknowingly. He would also have to apologize to his father and hope that Snape forgave him if only for the sake of the Order and the future of the Wizarding World which undoubtedly had landed in Harry's hands.

Harry paced for a few minutes, before curving into the hallway that would lead him directly to the abode of Madame Pomfrey and her overly worried ways. She was almost worst than Mrs. Weasley at times, and Madame Pomfrey wasn't even a mother. Maternal instinct, Harry decided, did not necessarily need to be a part of actually having a child of your own.

Shaking his head to get rid of his idle thoughts, Harry wondered how he would begin. Just a simple, "I'm sorry," wouldn't work on the Slytherin Prince or the Slytherin Head of House, even though Harry knew for a fact that neither of the two afore mentioned Slytherins would ever apologize of their own free will to anyone unless it was truly of necessity for them to do so.

Harry braced himself and then with a deep breath turned the corner and walked towards the Hospital Wing, hoping that no one else was either visiting Draco, or for that matter using one of the cots themselves to recover from some ailment.

He had not walked farther than to the door, when he heard a voice – an unmistakable voice, that of Severus Snape's. Had it not been for the silky tone, Harry wouldn't have believed this to be the voice he had heard yell at him in many occasions. He pressed his forehead against the door and listened to the crooning voice of his father, talking gently, to Draco Malfoy from what he could tell, but he couldn't quite hear what he was saying in the almost loving tone. Harry felt a surge of anger surge inside him and he pushed the door open only an inch, just to close it again a second later, the sight that he had beheld crushing any thought of apologizing to either of them though not quite understanding the reason for why.

There they had been, Draco fast asleep in his cot, his sheet covering his torso, his hair brushing his cheeks in a gentle manner, his eyes closed, his skin pale, though regaining color. He had looked almost like an angel – a dark one if indeed an angel – and there had been Snape. The juxtaposition between the two had been scary but added more to the detail of them together. He had been sitting on the bed next to him, one of his arms lying on the pillow, right above Draco's head almost as if he was cradling Draco without touching him. His other hand, its long fingers, a replica of Harry's own hand had brushed away Draco's hair from his face all the while talking to the sleeping boy in his loving tone.

Harry walked away from the Hospital Wing, and decided it was time he returned to Gryffindor tower and to his real life. He would have to sneak back into Snape's quarters to get his things, sure, but that could be dealt with later, or better yet, he could send a house-elf to get his things for him. It was clear he had been intruding upon Snape's life. He would study alone from now on, or have Remus help him, and he would defeat Voldemort, and then he would move on with his life and he would forget about his father and Draco Malfoy if he could help it. He had enough people in his life that would help him with his future; anyone in the order for one, and he had family. The Weasleys, and Hermione, and all of his friends were his family, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that at some point during the war, he would have to leave his friends and continue alone, it did not help one bit that he had kept so much from them already. His silence, however, Harry knew, would have to continue.

"Dobby!" Harry called and waited for the elf to appear before him.

"I want you to fetch all of my belongings from Professor Snape's rooms and bring them to my dorm. Tell no one about this and let no one see you, not even Snape."

Dobby considered him and then nodded before leaving again. Harry was surprised at Dobby's lack of exclamations of his loyalty to him, but decided that he didn't need to worry about it, and continued on his way to the Gryffindor common room, hoping that Hermione would not give him trouble about everything and the fact that he had missed at least two of his potion rounds.

-

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_April 20, 1997_

When Harry saw Draco for the first time since seeing him in Hospital Wing with Snape, Harry knew at once that something had changed drastically in the Draco that he had seen in September. This Draco was as he had been before his father had gone to jail, but he was also much subdued and more dangerous as Harry had seen first hand. This Draco was a death eater, and he seemed to be planning something, Harry just knew it, but he told no one about his fears.

He and Snape had not even looked at each other since their first meeting in his classroom, where Snape had informed the class that they would be changing partners, no doubt trying to help Draco out by keeping him away from Harry. This time Harry wound up with Hermione as his partner which Harry was actually glad for. Snape had looked at the moment as if he had expected Harry to thank him for the change, but Harry had ignored him completely and then done all his share with the work with Hermione so that Snape had nothing to say to him about it when he walked behind Harry and his new partner, looking over their shoulders at their potion.

It had been when he had sent Hermione to hand in the potion that Snape had snarled at him to stay after class. Hermione had at first looked reluctant to leave but after he waved her to go she had relented. He and Snape waited for everyone else to depart, and then Snape had spoken in a whisper.

"I was disappointed to find all your things gone," Snape had said. "I had hoped to talk to you."

Harry had merely shrugged at him.

"I was not quite paying attention at the time," Snape continued, not once looking Harry, "but I did notice it later. The spell came from a certain potions book that is in fact missing."

Harry didn't even shrug this time. Instead he stood unmoving, not caring at all for Snape's calm tone or for the accusation that hung between them.

"I want it back," Snape said lastly. "Go on, hand it over, Harry."

Harry did not reach into his bag. He didn't move an inch.

"Harry, give me that book," Snape said, louder this time, but still he was trying to keep his temper.

"I don't know where it is," Harry answered this time. "I think I lost it in the room of requirement." And then he had crossed the room, to the door. He stopped there and said, "If that is all I do have another class to get to."

Snape had looked for a moment as if he did want to say something to Harry, and Harry urged him to say anything that would take them back to a time before Harry had run into Professor Trelawney. Snape hadn't, and Harry had simply walked out. Since then they shared no words. They couldn't even look at each other, and while many had missed that, Harry had realized at once that Hermione had noticed. It was a good thing, Harry had decided later, that they were never alone or together for long periods of time, or she would have breached the subject.

-

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_April 30, 1997_

Harry knew at once that Hermione was angry. He just didn't know why, or at whom. His first guess would have been Ron, but since Ron had been with Lavender, Hermione for some reason had found that she could not anger as easily towards the red head. Maybe it was that Ron was much more controlled in his comments or he was much too busy with Lavender to have time to infuriate Hermione. However, when Hermione stepped into the common room, even first years knew not to cross her. She walked directly to where Harry was sitting and harrumphed in annoyance.

"What happened?" Harry asked, gently.

She lifted a lock of her hair and showed him the singed end. Harry couldn't help but laugh, to which he received a glare.

"Well, what happened?" He asked again.

"The potion exploded," she said. "The only thing I did was put the stirring rod in and it exploded, and singed my hair, and my clothes. I had a couple of burns on my arms. Thank god I had a burn salve in the room so it didn't make a lot of damage, but we were so close and now we have to start over!"

"Did the pad survive the explosion?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed wearily and shook her head. "It didn't. Our other helper, I think, might have missed a stir or two, or maybe put in too much of an ingredient or the wrong one. He was the last one that was there."

"So, what do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know," Hermione muttered frustrated.

She ran her hands over her hair and brought out her wand, waving it in the air. Some sort of green fog surrounded her hair for a few minutes and then Harry noticed that it was at least two inches shorter, but no longer burnt.

"Can you tell me who it is now?" Harry asked.

She frowned to herself as if considering the matter and then shook her head.

Harry who had decided not to care about the mysterious potion helper did not ask for an answer again, to which he realized Hermione was truly grateful for. He had suspected for some time, that Hermione was seeing whoever it was that had been helping them with the potion, but that she hadn't wanted to share him with Harry because she feared his reaction, or feared Ron's for that matter, considering all the Krum stuff.

"So," Hermione said, "how are you? Snape was ignoring you again. I thought the two of you were on better terms but lately you won't even say one word to each other. Did you have a disagreement?"

Harry laughed. "You could call it that," he admitted a second later. "You know how he is."

Hermione nodded. Everyone knew how Snape was when he wanted to be, having been on the receiving end of Snape's tongue.

-

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-

_May 17, 1997_

Harry took the offered cup of tea and added his desired amount of sugar to his cup. Stirring, Harry looked up at Remus who sat across from him, adding sugar to his own porcelain cup.

"So, healing spells," Remus said. "I know just a bit about that. The few things I could teach you will not be very helpful to you, I fear. You would do better to ask your father to teach you more about healing spells."

Harry knew exactly what Remus was trying to do and he had done it to him more than enough times in the past month that Harry had easily learned to no longer even acknowledge Remus' futile tried to get Harry to talk to Snape.

"I guess I'll ask Madame Pomfrey to teach me about this, then," Harry said and brought his tea to his lips. He took a sip.

Remus laughed, shaking his head. "Fine, alright, I think I have a book here somewhere that might help if you ever need to do this."

Harry smirked and hoped that Remus would not point out – as he had every time before – how smirking made him look like Snape. Remus did not point it out, however, and instead got up, turned to his bookshelf, and skimmed through some titles before coming to a stop and grabbing a book off the shelf.

"Read that," Remus said. "I think you'll find a number of spells in there that will help with nearly any scrape you may get into. Anyway, keep it. I don't think I will need it any time soon."

"Thanks," Harry said, taking the book and without bothering to look at the title, setting it down next to his bag on the ground.

Remus smiled at him fondly and once more took his seat, taking a drink from his tea cup.

"Tonks talked to Fleur," Remus announced. "She thinks it's a great idea to have the wedding on the same day."

"When?" Harry asked.

"Early July, we think," Remus said nodding, before he continued with a great smile, "I want you to be my best man, Harry."

Harry couldn't exactly say he had expected that, but he grinned at Remus, nodding. "I'd be honored, Remus."

-

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-

_May 27, 1997_

Harry was in the middle of the book Remus had gotten him when he felt someone pull at his sleeve. Allowing his eyes to leave the book, he looked up and found Elissa, the Slytherin seeker, looking at him.

"I have something for you," she said in a shy tone.

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, surprised.

She nodded, but didn't bring whatever it was that she had for him out.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "So, who sent me something?"

"Oh!" she said, looking ready to berate herself. "I was going down to the pitch for some alone time on my broom, when I ran into Professor Dumbledore. He was walking to the castle from the gates, I would assume. Anyways he called me over and asked me to dins you, said I should look in the library."

"What did he have for me?" Harry asked. Dumbledore had been gone for the longest time yet, Harry had noticed, and finally he was back, and Harry hoped that he had come back with good news if nothing else.

"A note," Elissa said. "He wrote it down on the spot." She withdrew a folded piece of paper from her robes pocket and handed it to him. Only one word was written within, "Skittles." Harry was almost surprised at the mention of the muggle candy, but decided to not bother and think too much of it, after all this was Dumbledore. He nearly always had at least two types of candy at any given time.

"Thank you, Elissa," Harry said, not looking at the first year, but still staring at the note.

She shook her head.

Harry nodded, gathered his belongings and made his way out of the library to Dumbledore's office, hoping that this meant what he thought it did and that Dumbledore had fund a Horcrux.

"Skittles," Harry told the gargoyle with a roll off his eyes. He waited until it sprung open and then stepped onto the stairs which took him up to Dumledore's office. Before he even lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open of its own accord and Harry stepped into the familiar room. Dumbledore was looking through a number of documents at his desk. He was dressed in his usual purple robes, but they seemed to hang from him in a such a rugged way that Harry had the impression that Dumbledore had not changed out of them for many days. He looked older, and frail, and the hand that Harry knew to be blackened was under it's usual glamour, but that did nothing to hide the fact that the Headmaster held his hand in a stiff way, and that at times he couldn't even move it.

"Good, Harry, you're here," Dumbledore said. "Do you have your cloak with you?"

"No," Harry said. "Why? What's happening?"

Dumbledore smiled at him in such a way that Harry knew instantly that Dumbledore had found a Horcrux and even more than that, that Dumbledore was allowing Harry to go with him to destroy it, or just retrieve it, just as he had promised.

"Why, I have the location of one of his, Horcruxes," Dumbledore said, smiling.

Harry couldn't help but grin. "When are we leaving?" He asked.

"This very night," Dumbledore said, "hence the need of your cloak. No one must know that you are gone Harry. No one should suspect that you left the castle. Go get your cloak, tell your friends you and I will be having a meeting and that you will not be back until late, and to not worry themselves about you. I will meet you in the entrance hall in ten minutes."

With another nod, Harry left the room and stopped himself from running to the Gryffindor common room to get the cloak. He couldn't be seen acting like a maniac again, especially if he was going to be missing from the school that night. Still, he could not help but rejoice the good luck. Dumbledore had found a Horcrux! After tonight, another part of Voldemort's soul would be destroyed and they would be that much closer to defeating him.

The common room was mostly empty when Harry walked to his dorm. He didn't spot, Ron, Ginny, or Hermione anywhere, but that didn't exactly matter too much. He could just tell one of the other Gryffindors that he was going to be meeting Dumbledore and to not expect him back until later. No one would think anything of that, considering that he had been having meetings with the headmaster all throughout the school year.

He opened his trunk, and rifled through it until he found the desired item, which he scooped up. As he reached to close the trunk, however, he noticed the Marauders Map, and grabbed it as well, for some reason knowing that it would be extremely useful, though he didn't exactly know how.

He walked as calmly as he could, while still celebrating their find in his mind, and nearly ran into Ron as he walked down the stairs.

"Oh, hey, Ron, I was looking for you," Harry said. "Dumbledore asked me to meet him tonight. I just wanted to tell one of you, because I won't be back until late. It's going to be a long night, he said."

Ron did not have time to comment as Harry continued down the stairs, with a final wave to him.

As soon as he had reached the main floor, Harry found an empty classroom. There he threw the cloak on and made sure that all of him was covered, before walking to the entrance hall. Everything would go well tonight! He was going to get a Horcrux, and later or even that very night, they would destroy it.

**Author's Note: **Yeah. I know, you're probably all frustrated over Harry and Snape not making up. Those two are so childish sometimes. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed the chapter. And we're now only three chapters away from the end, and then the sequel which you'll be happy to know is officially going well. I even have a one-shot set this in this universe planned out for when we get to ch 5 of that one. I'm currently working on that chapter right now. Please review and questions are always welcome.

-Erika


	33. Slytherin's Locket

**Author's Note: **I know I said to some of you when replying to your reviews that I'd most likely not update until wednesday or after, but the plans I had for today were moved for another day and I have found myself with the free day I've been wanting for a while now so I could do some writing for the sequel as well as some thinking as to a title. So while I'm at it, why not update as well and give you a chapter sooner than some of you expected. Enjoy the chapter. And once again, this was not beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty Three  
_**

_Slytherin's Locket  
_

_May 27, 1998_

They walked out onto the grounds and continued in silence towards the gates. Harry was a ball of excitement and nervousness. Here he was, heading into some sort of adventure and he wasn't doing it alone or with his friends, instead he had the Headmaster of Hogwarts with him, the man that was considered the greatest wizard the Wizarding world had seen in quite a while. Dumbledore was trusting Harry to come with him when he could have had anyone else – Snape, or Remus, or any member from the Order. Harry couldn't help but smile a little, and then he thought about the danger, for it was bound to be dangerous, there was no way this couldn't be. He knew it. Dumbledore probably knew – had experienced it even, Harry thought, thinking about Dumbledore's well hidden blackened hand. Anything could happen on this expedition. Harry could very well die, and so could Dumbledore for all that he was powerful, but sheer luck had saved Harry many times before and he hoped it wouldn't fail him now.

Dumbledore waved his wand in an intricate pattern at the gates, and Harry remembered how Snape had taught him how to dismantle the wards of Hogwarts and how to put them back so he could leave the castle. He had taught him that only so that he could leave the castle during an attack if there ever was one on Hogwarts. Harry doubted he would run, leaving his friends behind, but it was a good thing to know to even sneak the others students out of the castle. Snape had taught him more about the wards than Harry had ever wanted to know, like the fact that during every Hogsmeade visit the castle was vulnerable for at least an hour during which time the students were going to Hogsmeade. Harry had found that tidbit especially interesting considering what Hermione had said to him when they went to Hogsmeade before the holiday break. He had wondered since then if she had been able to tell most of the wards had been down during Hogsmeade trips.

Dumbledore finally pushed the gates open and allowed Harry to go first before following, closing the gates and instantly enabling the warding process. They walked at a considerable faster pace to the all-Wizarding village, past a couple of shops. Harry spotted the bookshop owner leaving his bookshop and locking the door behind him with his wand. He also saw Madame Rosmerta yelling at a grubby-looking wizard, but he could not hear what their fight was about. He and Dumbledore walked as inconspicuously as they possibly could. Madame Pomfrey spotted Dumbledore and greeted him. Dumbledore answered in kind, but did not elaborate on his business in Hogsmeade which was just as well, because Madame Rosmerta seemed to have noticed that the grubby-looking wizard was entering her pub, and she went after him.

They walked farther down the village and then turned into a small secluded corner.

"Take my arm, Harry," Dumbledore said and Harry knew what was coming next – apparition.

He had done it once, and it had been the most horrible experience he had ever felt. He had not been the first person to apparate in their class, but he had been one of the few to do it properly. Ron hadn't managed to do it once yet, but he had almost managed to splinch himself, and Hermione had of course done it almost as soon as their second lesson began and had then proclaimed that she quite enjoyed the feeling that Harry associated with such adjectives as horrible.

Harry said nothing as he took Dumbledore's arm while Dumbledore seemed to look around, searching for anyone that had spotted them. "On the count of three… One… two… three"

Harry turned. The awful sensation of being squeezed through a thick rubber tube came at once. He couldn't breathe and felt as if every little part of him was being compressed almost past endurance, and then, just when he thought he must suffocate, the invisible bands seemed to burst open, and he was standing in cool darkness breathing in fresh, salty air. He could hear the rushing waves, and he could feel a chilly breeze ruffle his almost behaved hair. Harry almost laughed at the thought that wind was making his hair look like James Potter's once had. They were standing on a high outcrop of dark rock, and could see that many others like the one he was standing littered the sea water.

"Is this were the orphans were brought?" Harry asked, seriously doubting that it could have been the place, though he could see that was clearly where Tom had brought a couple of the other children.

"A village over those cliffs," Dumbledore told him. "I believe he brought them here to terrorize them."

Harry shuddered, not wanting to think about the terror those poor Muggle orphans must have gone through not knowing how Tom was doing any of it.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"There is a cave, just a little ways, if you don't mind getting wet."

"No, of course not," Harry said.

Dumbledore beckoned to Harry from the edge of their rock where a series of jagged niches made footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and closer to the cliff.

Dumbledore lead the way down the treacherous path of niches and footholds. He moved slowly, the hurt hand doing nearly nothing to help him in the process. Harry followed after him after folding his invisibility cloak and muttering a shrinking charm so he could put it into his pocket. As he went down he could feel the spray of the cold water.

"_Lumos_," Dumbledore muttered, extending his wand out, to light the dark surface of the water and the cliff before them. Harry spotted the fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling at once, and knew that it was there that the Horcrux had to be hidden.

Dumbledore put his wand in his teeth and then got into the water and began to swim. Harry quickly followed him. His wet clothes began to weight him down almost instantly and Harry regretted not taking his cloak off and shrinking it, but continued on wet clothes and all, swimming towards the light that was emitted from Dumbledore's mouth.

A few moments later Harry arrived into a dark tunnel which Harry could tell would be filled with water at high tide. The slimy walls were barely three feet apart and for the first time ever Harry felt slightly claustrophobic, which was a strange experience considering that he had slept in a cupboard for more than half his life. The tunnel turned left, a little way in and Harry knew at once that the tunnel extended far into the cliff.

He saw Dumbledore rising out of the water moments later, and Harry glad that there wasn't long to go, hurried to reach that spot. When he did reach it, he noticed that there were steps and as quickly as he could with his wet clothes he clambered up them and he began to shiver uncontrollably. He reached for his wand which felt cold to his fingers and thought about the warming charm they had learned just two weeks before in class. It took him a moment to come up with the right movement of his wand, and then he quickly dried himself, letting out a small sigh of contentment at feeling warmth course through his body. Harry looked around where they had wound up. It was a large cave. Dumbledore was standing right in the middle of it, his wand held high. He turned slowly on the spot and continuously examined the walls and ceiling as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"This is the place," he announced suddenly.

Harry frowned. How had he been able to tell? He asked the question out loud.

"It has known magic," Dumbledore responded and Harry nodded. He should have known that.

He watched Dumbledore continue turning around the room, muttering to himself. He approached the wall of the cave, suddenly. Harry noticed his pensive look and waited, not wanting to disturb him at work. It was amazing how much Dumbledore seemed to understand from simply touch of the wall.

Twice, Harry watched Dumbledore walk around the cave, touching the walls of the cave, and then he seemed to have found something, for he stopped, his hand pressed flat against the wall.

"Here," he said.

"What is there, sir?" Harry asked.

"The entrance, my boy," Dumbledore said. Harry didn't bother to ask Dumbledore how he had figured that out, knowing fully well that a wizard could feel magic if they allowed themselves to touch the things around them with their magic.

Harry stepped closer and looked at the wall with Dumbledore. Dumbledore tapped the wall with his wand and muttered a long string of incantations that made for a moment an outline appear on the wall. Dumbledore stood in front of it for a long moment afterward, then a frown appeared on his face and Harry realized at once that it was obvious the wall would only open under some sort of condition – Harry hoped it wasn't something like a dead body.

"Oh, surely not. So crude," Dumbledore said at last.

"What is to be the payment to pass?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore gave him a sidelong look. "I see your father has taught you well. He rather is a good teacher when he applies himself, isn't he? Blood, Harry, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry shuddered slightly. The last time he had seen blood popped up clearly in his mind – Draco lying in the middle of the girls' bathroom with all those cuts and a puddle of his blood. He shook his head.

"A way to weaken the person entering, I would assume," Dumbledore told Harry as he withdrew a knife from within his robes.

"Could it be avoided?" Harry asked.

"No," Dumbledore answered simply. He flicked open the knife and shook back the sleeve of his robes. Harry wanted to protest and say that he would do it, but Dumbledore gave an unperceivable shake of his head at Harry as if he had known what Harry was thinking, and then he cut deep into his forearm. Dumbledore waved his wand at the blood that dribbled out of the cut and it flew into the wall and then quickly at the cut that vanished just as soon as it had appeared.

The few drops of blood had been enough to open the hidden entrance, and Harry watched as the outline of the arch once more appeared. The blood disappeared from the wall and then the wall, leaving an opening into total darkness.

Dumbledore walked forward first, and Harry followed. They were standing on the edge of a great black lake. Harry couldn't make out the distant banks and wondered just how big it was though that, Harry thought to himself, could do with the fact that there were only two sources of light – Dumbledore's wand and a faint green glow from somewhere out in the middle of the black lake.

"Do not step into the water," Dumbledore warned Harry. "We should keep going farther."

Harry nodded.

They walked for a few minutes in silence. Harry wondered if it was possible that Dumbledore was wrong and the Horcrux wasn't there, but he decided that was not something he quite wanted to voice. They continued on, and Harry looked out at the middle of the lake, wondering about the green haze in the middle of the lake.

"Where would it be?" Harry asked.

"I believe in the middle of the lake," Dumbledore said, motioning to the green haze.

"We're going to have to cross the lake to get it," Harry muttered.

"Hmm, yes," Dumbledore said. "Let's continue on, we might find a way to cross."

Harry nodded and continued following the headmaster. They walked for another five minutes by Harry's estimation, and then suddenly Dumbledore came to stop in front of Harry, and Harry ran straight into him. He toppled on the edge of the dark water and then fell back to regain his balance right into it. He had been in the water for no more than a few seconds before he heard something moving, as if coming toward him. Harry moved out of the water as quickly as he could and heard a splash somewhere next to him in the dark lake. He looked around in the water but whatever it was had gone by under.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I should have given you a warning, however, I did wonder at what else could be guarding his Horcrux."

Harry nodded, a little shakily.

Dumbledore walked a little closer to the bank, though he did not touch the water. Instead he ran a hand through the thin air, as though expecting to find and grip something invisible. Suddenly a few minutes of searching later, Dumbledore smiled happily at Harry. His hand had closed in midair upon something Harry could not see. Dumbledore stepped closer to the water, brought out his wand, and tapped his first with the other hand. Immediately a thick coopery green chain appeared out of thin air, extending from the depths of the water to Dumbledore's hand. Dumbledore tapped the chair and it began to slide through his fist and coil itself on the ground with a clinking sound that echoed noisily off the rocky walls, pulling something from the depths of the black water.

Harry gasped, and watched the tiny boat emerge. "How did you know it was there?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Magic always leaves traces," Dumbledore said, as the boat hit the bank with a gentle bump, "sometimes very distinctive traces. I taught Tom Riddle. I know his style."

Harry nodded, and then looked over the boat. "Is it safe?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I think so. Voldemort needed to create a way to cross the lake without attracting the wrath of those creatures he had placed within it in case he ever wanted to visit or remove his Horcrux."

"So they won't do anything if we're on the boat?"

"I think, eventually they will do something once they realize that we are not Lord Voldemort."

Harry nodded and did not ask any further questions. Instead he looked down at the boat. It really was small, and not built for more than one person.

"Will it hold our weight?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I don't think weight was a problem Voldemort worried most about, but rather how much magical power that crossed this lake. I rather think an enchantment will have been placed on this boat so that only one wizard at a time will be able to sail in it."

"But then…"

"You are not yet of age," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort would never have expected a sixteen-year old to have come this far into this cavern, so I would assume he overlooked that."

Harry nodded and then Dumbledore motioned for him to get on the boat first. Harry did, careful not to touch the water. Dumbledore followed and they were cramped in together, not really able to sit, and then the boat began to move of its own accord. Soon they could no longer see the walls and instead just the water around them.

Harry looked down at the water as the boat moved them toward the small island in the middle, from which he could still see the green haze. He did not notice the bodies moving underneath the water at first and then he gasped when he saw a hand.

"There are bodies in there," Harry said in a whisper.

Dumbledore nodded. "They won't harm us at the moment, as long as they are drifting peacefully below us."

Harry nodded, but couldn't help but keep an eye on them. "But they will attack us eventually?" He asked.

"Yes, I would assume so," said Dumbledore. "Once we get the Horcrux, I think it will be quite impossible for us to get out of here without them fighting us."

"But there are so many," Harry whispered in a small voice.

"Yes, but they fear warmth. Fire, Harry, will be the best way to keep them at bay if an attack is eminent."

Harry nodded, keeping that in the back of his mind just in case. They both fell silent for the next few minutes, until Harry could see that the green haze was much closer than it had been earlier and that they were fast approaching it.

"Careful not to touch the water, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'm surprised they did not attack when you touched it earlier."

Harry nodded.

The island was no larger than Dumbledore's office, an expanse of flat dark stone on which stood nothing but the source of that greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. Harry squinted at it; at first, he thought it was a lamp of some kind, but then he saw that the light was coming from a stone basin.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Something more worrisome than blood or bodies," Dumbledore said, pulling back the sleeve of his robe and stretching out the tips of the fingers of the hand Harry knew to be hurt, toward the surface of the potion, however, he could not touch it.

Harry walked around it, looking at the liquid, wondering if the Horcrux could possibly be inside the potion. But how could they get it out if they couldn't even touch the potion? Harry watched Dumbledore wave his wand at it for a number of minutes, before he sighed.

"Well," he told Harry, "it appears that it cannot be penetrated by hand, vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away, nor can it be Transfigured, Charmed, or otherwise made to change its nature."

"Then, what are we going to do?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore frowned for a moment, deep in thought, and then he announced, "Why, I think this potion must be drunk."

"What? But that could surely kill you!" Harry exclaimed.

"I highly doubt it, Harry," Dumbledore said.

Harry did not find that at all comforting. "But it will do something, then," he said.

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "I rather think, it will act in such a way that it may paralyze me, make me forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Harry, it will be your job to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to top the potion into my protesting mouth. You understand?"

Harry did not speak – he couldn't. Dumbledore had just told him that he was going to have to force feed him if it came to that, and that he would be the one forcing Dumbledore to drink the potion that would lead to the Horcrux. Harry didn't think he could do it, and then his eyes met Dumbledore's. It was the strength and the trust that shone through to Harry that made him nod sharply.

"Harry, you must do this, it is important," Dumbledore told him.

Harry nodded, slowly.

"Do I have your word, Harry? You will do this – no matter the physical or mental pain I am in?"

Harry hesitated for a second, but then rather reluctantly he nodded again, and said, "Yes, alright. You have my word."

Dumbledore waved his wand in the air and a crystal goblet fell straight into his hand. Before Harry could bring up any sort of protest, or back out of what he had agreed to do, Dumbledore had brought it down on the potion and he had filled the glass full to the brim. Dumbledore lifted the goblet to his lips and drained the goblet. Dumbledore closed his eyes, and shook his head, but said nothing when Harry inquired after him. He then continued, reaching blindly into the potion, with his goblet, he once more filled it to the brim and brought it to his lips. He drank it down, without a word.

Dumbledore drank another two goblets of potion in silence, his eyes closed. Harry watched him closely wondering if he was in pain, then, halfway through the fourth goblet, he staggered and fell forward against the basin. His eyes were still closed and his breathing heavy.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "Are you alright? Can you hear me? Professor?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. In fact, it appeared as if he wasn't even aware that Harry was standing next to him calling out his name. His face was twitching as if he was deep asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. Harry couldn't stand to watch such a powerful man in such a state.

Harry called his name again, louder this time. Dumbledore gave no response, and then suddenly he spoke. His voice was frightened, and Harry had never once heard Dumbledore speak in such a way, much less would he have expected Dumbledore to do so.

"I don't want… Don't make me…don't like…want to stop…" moaned Dumbledore in his strange voice.

"You – you can't stop," Harry told him as gently as he could, while trying to calm his voice. "You have to keep drinking, remember? You told me you had to keep drinking. Here…"

Repulsed by his own actions, Harry forced the goblet back toward Dumbledore's mouth and tipping it, so that Dumbledore drank the remainder of his fourth goblet.

Dumbledore moaned loudly as soon as he had swallowed and pleaded with Harry to "make it stop".

Harry, with a hard heart, pushed on, refilling the goblet and bringing it to Dumbledore again. "This will make it better," he lied before tipping the contents of the goblet into Dumbledore's mouth once again.

"No, no, no, no, I can't, I can't, don't make me, I don't want to…"

Harry hated the pleading, and he hated more, the fact that he had to keep force feeding the potion to Dumbledore who was almost in a child like state, pleading to not drink medicine for an ailment.

"It's alright, Professor," Harry said loudly so Dumbledore could hear him. "Nothing's happening to you, you're safe, it isn't real, I swear it isn't real – take this, now, take this…."

Obediently, Dumbledore drank, but upon finishing it, he sank to the ground as if his legs could not hold him up any longer.

Harry couldn't help the overwhelming sadness that came over him as he watched him, trying to offer as much comfort as he could while still adding to his pain and suffering through the potion. He continued to lie, and offer conclusions to the pain he was suffering, all the while tipping back the goblet into his mouth and allowing the potion to go down his throat.

As he drank more things got worse, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what exactly Dumbledore was suffering – what he was being tortured with?

"Don't hurt them, please, please, it's my fault, hurt me instead…"

Harry tried to not listen to his pleas as he continued, his hands shaking uncontrollably

"I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!" Dumbledore screamed in more anguish than ever another two goblets later.

Harry forced him to drink yet another goblet of potion, and as soon as it was over, Dumbledore yelled, "KILL ME!" His pain was so acute, Harry wondered how he had been able to handle watching him go through it for so long.

"This – this one will," Harry gasped, "just drink this…it'll be over…all over!"

Dumbledore gulped at the goblet, drained every last drop, and then, with a great, rattling gasp, rolled over onto his face.

"No!" Harry shouted, not being able to believe that the potion could have actually killed him – Dumbledore said it would not, Dumbledore was rarely ever wrong. It couldn't have killed him.

"No, you're not dead, you said it wasn't poison, wake up, wake up—"

**Author's Note: **Alright...so this is a cliffy. I know, evil...but this was the best place to stop. originally this chapter was double how long it is now and it was still a cliffy, but it was too long for my tastes so this was the perfect place to stop. hehe. I did have a hard time deciding on whether to have them go after this particular Horcrux, but I felt as if I might as well get this one out of the way, because I do have plans for the others and I wanted that in the sequel. You'll notice also that my Harry is completely different from the Harry in the books in many ways and I also wanted to show that with this chapter. I hope all of you enjoyed it. Now just two more chapters to go...

please review and questions are of course welcome. I'll probably update on Thursday, but most likely something will be up on Friday or even maybe Saturday. It's so hard having friends with birthdays right next to each other. Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.

-Erika


	34. Thickening the Plot

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews. One more chapter left guys, not counting this one...enjoy!

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty Four  
_**

_Thickening the Plot  
_

_May 27, 1998_

He touched her cheek, softly. His fingers brushed away a tear. She didn't move. She couldn't move. Her eyes closed of her own volition. He stepped as close to her as he dared, cupping her face, lifting her face, so he could see her clearly. He forged it into his memory so he could never forget it and sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."

She didn't move an inch, didn't once give him the impression that she had heard him at all.

He pressed his forehead against hers in silent resignation. They said nothing, both of them knowing exactly what would happen after this moment.

-

-

-

Ron groaned in pain, and tried to lift his wand to shoot out a spell out at the Death Eater that had thrown him against the wall. He had just barely said the incantation when a spell from the side hit the Death Eater and his wand flew out of his hand. Ron righted himself quickly and smiled in appreciation at Ginny who had been the one to disarm him. She turned away and quickly began to fight a stocky witch that had been previously ganging up on Luna with a man that appeared to be her brother.

Ron rubbed at his sore arm, which had hit the wall hard, and then he looked around. Bill and the twins were fighting two robed and masked death eaters that really seemed to hold their own against his three older brothers. Ron could see Tonks and Remus, fighting back to back, often times helping each other. Professor McGonagall was firing off spells from left to right at a tall, large blond wizard. Neville was shielding someone behind him, but Ron couldn't tell who it was, and it was someone that had been hurt. Ron noticed a few of the other teachers though some where no where to be found. A blond woman was fighting two death eaters by herself all the while looking around for someone. Ron had never seen her before, but from the way the Order members said nothing about her, he knew she had to be one of them. Hermione was standing somewhere near this woman, throwing hexes and spells were she could in the fight.

It was a few minutes later, while trying to help Ginny with the death eater that she had been fighting that Draco Malfoy came into the hall. Ron could only see red. Here was the person that had lead to this fighting. He had been the one that had allowed them in according to Ginny and Hermione who had been walking to the Room of Requirement when they saw Malfoy stepping out of the room, motioning to others to follow him.

Draco began to shoot out spells around him, helping his fellow Death Eaters as he went.

"Ron!" Hermione called out to him before she let out a small scream.

Ron turned to look at Hermione right before he was hit on the back and he fell to the ground, pain coursing through him, a few seconds later it stopped, but he could barely keep his eyes open. Exhaustion clouded him and then all he could see was black. He heard someone faintly calling his name and then there was nothing.

-

-

-

Dumbledore's eyelids flickered. Harry's heart leapt.

"Water," Dumbledore croaked.

"Water," Harry said. "Yes," and reached for his wand and the goblet that had fallen to the ground throughout the entire commotion. "_Aguamenti!_" Harry shouted and filled the goblet to the brim with water and brought it to Dumbledore's lips, but it was empty.

Harry tried again twice, all the while Dumbledore groaned, but the water kept vanishing from the glass goblet.

"Sir, I'm trying," Harry said when his third attempt failed.

Dumbledore's breathing was fading and instinctively Harry knew what he had to use – the water from the lake. Voldemort must have planned it this way, and the moment Harry took the water the bodies in the water would attack, but he would be ready.

He rushed to the lake and quickly filled the goblet with the water from within, he then brought it to Dumbledore, tipping the goblet, clumsily over his face, and then Harry felt something icy come to rest on his arm. He looked down and almost screamed when he saw the slimy, white hand. He quickly tried to get its grip off his arm, but he couldn't pull it off. Grabbing his wand, Harry thought of only fire, and managed to mutter the spell. The hand let him go quickly and reeled backward. Harry backed away from the water, as far as he could go.

Dumbledore had stood up, and though he looked tired and as if he were about to collapse, and he was leaning against the basin, he too raised his wand. Harry looked at him worriedly and wanted to ask if he would be okay, but the white dead bodies were crawling out of the water. Harry found he couldn't help but be reminded of the muggle movies about zombies that were meant to scare people – he had thought they were stupid whenever he saw Dudley watching them with his friends, just something that shouldn't be scary at all compared to Voldemort and so many other things that were much worse.

The Inferi, Harry remembered that was their name – they had covered them in Defense Against the Dark Arts a few weeks before – walked towards them, dead, and ready to attack them.

Dumbledore waved his wand, as if finally coming to a conclusion on what they had to do. Harry barely registered that what Dumbledore had done was summon the locket from the basin. Harry turned back to looking at the Inferi and realized they were closer. He searched for a spell, quickly, and within moments had one at the tip of his tongue. He made a slashing, circling motion with his wand and a ring of fire surrounded them, closing them in, not allowing them to get closer.

"Ah, thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said in his almost faint voice. And then after slipping the Horcrux into his robes, he waved his wand as well. For a second the flames flew higher, before settling themselves back into the creation that Harry had made, not changing much at all.

Harry looked at Dumbledore questioningly, and at once noticed that Dumbledore was not as well as he had appeared at first. He looked almost as pale as the Inferi, and seemed to almost wobble where he stood. However, as he looked around, he seemed to gain some strength, and with faltering steps, led Harry to the boat. Dumbledore staggered a little as he attempted to climb into the boat, while the fire still kept the Inferi at bay. Harry followed, and quickly helped Dumbledore, before getting himself in as well. The boat began to move as soon as they were both safely jammed inside.

Reaching the bank, in Harry's perspective, took longer than it had taken for them to leave it and arrive in the middle of the lake, especially with Harry noticing the bodies floating in the water, though they did nothing to them while they were inside the boat and the ring of fire followed them – Harry assumed that was what Dumbledore had done to Harry's fire, made it keep them in the middle of it and safe from the bodies.

Dumbledore waved his wand and let the fire fall from around them as soon as Harry had helped him out of the boat, and this time none of the bodies came back out of the water to attack them. Harry grateful for that, focused on Dumbledore who looked as if he could barely support himself, as he leaned against the cavern wall.

"I am weak…." He said.

"Don't worry, sir," Harry said as once, his anxious about Dumbledore's extreme pallor and by his air of exhaustion. "Don't worry, I'll get us back….Lean on me, sir…."

Harry pulled Dumbledore's arm around his shoulders, and guided the headmaster back around the lake, bearing most of the weight.

Dumbledore mumbled something, and Harry though he did not hear it, did not ask for him to repeat it, wanting the Headmaster to retain all the strength he had left.

"The archway," Dumbledore muttered. "…sealed itself…where…knife…"

"Never mind that, now," Harry told Dumbledore, and reached for his wand in his pocket, he pointed it, at his left hand and muttered the same spell that he had used on Draco.

Since using the spell on Draco, Harry had done some research, and had found that it had been only his extreme amount of power that had led to all the cuts, but that really, the spell when used properly could simply produce a cut of a required size.

"Where?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore motioned to the exact spot on the wall where the opening had previously been.

Harry pressed his hand against it, and then pointed his wand at his hand again, glad to have learned how to also heal cuts from that spell with Remus' book on healing.

Harry continued leading Dumbledore, crossing the outer cave with him. He helped him into the water, and tried to support him as much as he could in the water, worried by Dumbledore's silence. "It's going to alright, sir," he muttered. "We're nearly there….I can apparate us both back….Don't worry…."

"I'm not worried, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you."

Harry felt something akin to warmth spread across his chest, even though he could also feel shivers coursing through his body at the cold feel of the water. Dumbledore's words had meant so much to him – that he was trusted so much, that Dumbledore had so much faith in him surprised Harry more than anything.

It Harry another five minutes to get them out of the cave, and then they were once more out under the now starry sky. He managed to get them onto the nearest boulder. Sodden and shivering, Dumbledore's weight still upon him, Harry concentrated harder than he had ever done before upon his destination – Hogsmeade. He gripped Dumbledore's arm, and closed his eyes and then turned on the spot. Once again the terrible feeling of being compressed came over them and then moments later it was gone and they were standing in the same spot where Dumbledore had taken them before apparating them onto the boulder. The smell of the salty sea was gone, and for a moment Harry just looked around the empty calm street and allowed himself a sigh of relief. They had gotten out of there, and now it was only a matter of getting to Hogwarts. Surely Dumbledore could make it till then, and then after that, they would be okay.

Dumbledore slumped against Harry suddenly, as if all the exhaustion from the potion and from the very ordeal they had just gone through had finally managed to completely settle on him, and he groaned slightly.

"Severus," he croaked, while looking at Harry in such a pleading manner. "I need…need Severus."

"Alright," Harry said, softly, "but we have to get to the castle. Sir, can you walk?"

Dumbledore didn't answer for a small moment, and then, "No. Not at the moment." He shivered slightly, and Harry realized at once that their robes were still wet. He waved his wand over Dumbledore first and then himself, making sure that they were perfectly dry and warm. Dumbledore seemed to take some comfort from that.

Harry pulled Dumbledore up to his feet and once more supported his weight, helping him walk out of the little alley way and towards the streets of Hogsmeade, no longer worried about meeting anyone, but rather about getting the headmaster back to the school, where he could be looked after by his father or Madame Pomfrey.

They had walked only a few feet out on the main street, when Madame Rosmerta came running towards them.

"Oh, dear!" she cried. "What's happened? What's wrong with him?"

"He's hurt," Harry said. "I need to get him back to the school and—"

"What?" She asked with surprise. "Get back up to the school?" She seemed as if she wanted to protest the very idea of their going back up the school. Harry thought she was acting rather strangely for the barmaid that was usually forthcoming with news. "You can't go up there! You don't realize – haven't you seen?"

"What's happened?" Harry asked in a hurry. Dumbledore looked up at her also quite interested. It was to him, that she addressed the answer.

"Oh, well," Madame Rosmerta whispered, wide eyed, "why, the Dark Mark, Albus, it was seen floating above the castle – probably still is, I imagine."

Dread flooded Harry at the sound of her answer, and he turned to where the castle stood, and there it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they had entered a building…whenever they had murdered….

Upon looking a the mark Dumbledore seemed to have regained his strength and he pulled himself up to full height, through he staggered a little and he set a hand on Harry's shoulder to steady himself he looked as if he was resigned to something – the eminent death of a student, Harry decided.

"We need to return to the castle at once," Dumbledore said, not really talking to anyone but himself, and then he turned to Madame Rosmerta. "Brooms," he told her, "we'll need transport."

"I've got a couple behind the bar," she said, looking very frightened. "Shall I run and fetch—"

"No, no need," Dumbledore said, "Harry can do it."

Harry raised his wand at once and using his practiced nonverbal use of the spell, waved it. A second later they heard a bang. The front door of the pub opened and two brooms shot out into the street and raced each other to Harry's side, where they stopped dead, quivering slightly at waist height.

"Rosmerta, please send a message to the Ministry," Dumbledore instructed as he mounted the broom nearest him and motioned for Harry to do the same with the other. "It might be that nobody within Hogwarts has yet realized anything is wrong….Harry, put on your invisibility cloak."

Harry nodded, and threw the cloak over himself before mounting the broom. Madame Rosmerta had already rushed back inside her pub when Harry and Dumbledore kicked off from the ground and rose up into the air. Harry kept shooting worried looks at Dumbledore who looked as if he was alright, but who Harry knew was certainly far from being in a good condition, but the sight of the Dark Mark seemed to have acted upon Dumbledore as a stimulant: He was bent low over his broom, eyes fixed upon the mark, his long silver hair and beard flying behind him on the night air. And Harry too looked ahead at the skull floating high above the school, and fear swelled inside him like a venomous bubble, compressing his lungs, driving all other discomfort from his mind….Who could have been killed? Surely none of the students…but, he hoped it wasn't a teacher either. He shook his head. He shouldn't think about it.

"The wards, Harry," Dumbledore mumbled barely loud enough for Harry to hear him, and Harry was surprised that Dumbledore was trusting him with yet something else.

Harry nodded, and began to mutter the incantations that would allow them to fly into the school, glad that Snape had taught him how and had keyed him to all the wards so that it was easier for him to do this.

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said once they flew over the boundary wall into the grounds.

The Dark Mark was glittering directly above the Astronomy Tower, the highest of the castle. Harry wondered if that meant the death had happened there. He and Dumbledore flew directly to the Astronomy Tower, and landed. Dumbledore, Harry noticed, was no longer staggering, but still looked too tired to be up and about, and worried about someone having died at the hands of Death Eaters, but the tower, Harry noticed at once, was empty – deserted. There was no sign of a struggle, of a fight to the death, of even a body.

"What does it mean?" Harry asked Dumbledore, looking at the green skull with its serpent's tongue glinting evilly about them. "Is it the real Mark?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, and Harry turned to him at once. He was clutching his chest with his now blackened hand. When had the glamour fallen? Harry hadn't noticed it disappear – was Dumbledore too weak to keep it up around his hand?

"Go and wake your father, bring him here, Harry, I…I'll wait here. Tell him what's happened on the way here. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else, and don't remove your cloak."

Harry wanted to protest, to ask Dumbledore to find some other way of communicating with Snape so that Harry didn't have to talk to him, or fetch him for that matter, but he knew that he couldn't do that, when it was clear that Dumbledore needed the attention of the Potions Master.

Harry nodded, almost sullenly, and then hurried to the door and to the spiral staircase, but his hand had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when he heard running footsteps on the other side. He looked around at Dumbledore, who gestured him to retreat with a slow motion of his hand. Harry backed away, drawing his wand, ready for whoever it was, and hoping that it was someone from the Order, or a teacher that had noticed their arrival.

The door burst open and somebody erupted through it, looking around the room. In the dim light from the mark, Harry recognized the blond hair that he had seen in only two people. He could not tell whether this was the father or he son, but he knew it wasn't good whichever one it was. Harry waited, wand pointed at him, hoping that whichever Malfoy was standing before him, was there to inquire as to Dumbledore's health rather than because he had been the cause of the Dark Mark.

Dumbledore, upon seeing whoever it was, waved his wand, not at the figure but towards Harry, and he felt himself stiffening. He couldn't move. He barely heard Malfoy shout _Expelliarmus _out, but he saw Dumbledore's wand fly out of his hand. Harry felt dread settle on him, and then Dumbledore spoke

"Good evening, Draco," Dumbledore said, his voice not quite as faint as before, though Harry could hear the undertones of his weakness.

**Author's Note: **I can already see all of your minds turning through all of this and wondering exactly what I'm planning. I mean that first scene alone...and now they're in the tower...

I'll probably update sometime between now and Friday, possibly Thursday. Questions are of course welcome, and please review. One more chapter left.

-Erika


	35. Father and Son

**Author's Note: **Don't know what to really say up here. I have most of it in the Author's note at the bottom. I guess up here I'll tell you exactly how long this fanfic was.

It was 376 pages on word. The font was Century Gothic and it was pt. 12.

It had 135,287 words without author's notes and the summary.

3,581 paragraphs and 16,453 lines

So far the chapter with the most reviews is chapter 18 and I'd love it if this one could beat it.

Other than that, the note at the bottom covers everything, I hope you and enjoy the conclusion of this fanfic and of course the sequel to come. This chapter was not beta'd.

**Summary: "...**I am not your father. I will not act like your father. I do not care for you, Potter, and I will not be a parent to you..."

...Harry was more than ready to agree with that and nodded as he finished the drink he had been sipping at nervously.

It has been often said that a father and son can overcome anything, that family can overcome anything as long as there is love between them...but what if there isn't love but only hate? In a time of war most rely on their family and friends, but who can Harry rely on when he can't tell his friends that Severus Snape is his father? Especially with how curious they are of his secrets already. It isn't like he has Snape, anyway...to Snape he isn't more than just a burden after all, right? So in his time of need who can Harry turn to? Who can help him as he completes the task that was set on him?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, probably not even the plot considering how many times this plot has been done before...anywho on to the fic...

**_Chapter Thirty Five  
_**

_Father and Son  
_

_May 27, 1998_

Draco stepped forward, and looked around, as if to make sure that Dumbledore was there alone. He lifted an eyebrow quite like his father at the second broom. "Who else is here?" He asked, softly.

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?" Dumbledore asked, this time a certain weariness was portrayed in his voice. He moved slightly and Harry noticed that Dumbledore was leaning slightly against the wall.

"No," Draco said in his boastful tone of voice, the one that Harry had not heard in months. "I have backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

"Well, well," Dumbledore said, as though Malfoy was showing him an ambitious homework project and not informing him that killers were in a school full of children. "I thought your attempt at poisoning me would be enough to quiet your fears, but I guess it was not enough – not even the months of detention were, were they? Could you trust me so little to not know the kind of pressure you were under?"

"You know nothing!" Draco screamed. "My mother—"

"—was well protected," Dumbledore finished for him.

Draco seemed to ignore what Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I have a job to do," he said in a reluctant whisper.

"Then, you must get on and do it, dear boy," Dumbledore said, and this time pain laced through his voice and Harry could see how he was now half slumped against the wall. Draco seemed to notice this too, because he just stared at Dumbledore, his wand in the air pointed at him, and then he smiled.

"Draco, you are not a killer," Dumbledore said, a little stronger.

"How do you know?" Draco said at once. "You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I've done! What I've witnessed!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I do know, dear boy…"

Harry tried hard to break out of the immobilizing spell that Dumbledore had placed on him, knowing that Dumbledore had most likely put a weak form of the spell on him, considering the fact that Death Eaters were within the school and he needed as much strength as he could. Somewhere in the depths of the castle below Harry heard a muffled yell. Draco stiffened and glanced over his shoulder and frowned, still looking towards the stairs as if he knew who had screamed and he wanted to be sure that they were alright.

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," suggested Dumbledore. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight, too. And, after all, you don't really need help….I have no wand at the moment. I cannot defend myself."

Draco merely stared at him.

"Are you afraid, Draco?" Dumbledore asked. "You know you don't have to do this. You know what your mother has arranged."

Draco shook his head, and muttered something. "You should be afraid," he said louder a second later. "It's you who should be scared."

"But why? You won't kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe."

Harry couldn't believe that Dumbledore and Draco were having such a conversation. He couldn't understand the calmness that Dumbledore seemed to emit as he talked to Draco.

"So, Draco, will we have to wait for your friends?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco didn't answer, and then angrily he asked. "You knew all this time, didn't you?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, gently. "Of course I knew, dear boy. It is, after all on my orders that Professor Snape has been keeping an eye on you."

"Your orders?" Draco asked, faltering slightly. "But – no! He isn't working for you!"

"I have to disagree with that," Dumbledore said. "It so happens I trust Professor Snape." Harry watched Dumbledore inch lower on the wall that was holding him up. He couldn't help but worry that he was getting worse with every minute and that even the simplest of spells could finish him off.

Draco snorted, and didn't seem to notice Dumbledore's state as Harry had.

With every minute that passed, Harry saw the struggle that Dumbledore was going through in keeping himself upright, all the while, Draco listening towards the stairs.

"Now, about tonight," Dumbledore said, "I am a little puzzled about how it happened….You knew that I had left the school?"

Draco laughed. "Yes. I saw you walking away from the school. It seemed the perfect time. I asked one of my contacts to see where you went. He saw you were just going to Hogsmeade, so I knew you would be back in the school the moment you saw the mark, and I would be ready, they would be here, and we would be ready."

"So, no one is dead, then, I take it?"

Harry saw Draco shake his head. "I tripped over a body, while coming up here. One of yours, I think."

There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where Dumbledore, Malfoy, and Harry stood, and Harry's heart thundered unheard in his invisible chest….Someone was dead….Malfoy had stepped over the body….but who was it?

"So, Draco, what will it be?" Dumbledore asked. "Will you kill me? Or will you let me help you?"

"You can't," Draco said, though there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes that Harry thought was slightly misplaced.

Neither of them spoke, then, and stared at each other. Draco's face changed for a moment and he looked like a young child ready to cry and ask for forgiveness. He lowered his wand, his hand trembling and he opened his mouth, before closing it again…and then Harry heard footsteps thundering up the stairs.

It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight. Four people entered the room and pushed Draco aside. Harry couldn't exactly see their faces in the shadows.

"Dumbledore cornered!" a lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy delighted giggle. He turned away from the light that had allowed Harry to see him for a moment and instead whispered to a woman who looked as though she could be his sister who was grinning eagerly.

"Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!" She cried.

"Good evening Amycus. Alecto," Dumbledore said calmly, as though he were welcoming them to a tea party.

They ignored him.

"Do it," a stranger standing nearest to Harry, a big, rangy man with matter gray hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater's robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had a voice like none that Harry had ever heard: a rasping bark of a voice. Harry could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat, and, unmistakably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore and Harry knew immediately who the man was. He had bitten Remus and turned him into a werewolf.

"That's right," he rasped. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am."

Greyback grinned, showing his pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely. Harry couldn't help but wonder where the blood had come from. Surely the man had not bitten someone that night? Not when the moon wasn't full.

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore."

"Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual….You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

Harry knew at once that it was obvious that Fenrir Greyback had in fact developed an unnatural taste for human flesh. "That's right," he said. "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens You?"

"Well, I cannot pretend that it does not disgust me a little," Dumbledore said and Harry noticed that he was pushing himself against the wall, as if to pull himself up so that they did not notice his weakened state.

"I could rip out your throat right now, Dumbledore," Greyback said, suddenly, and he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth.

"No," said the Death Eater that had yet to speak, "We could all do it, but it is Draco's job. Now, Draco, and quickly."

Draco looked terrified, Harry realized, upon looking at him. He was almost as pale as he had been that day in the bathroom while blood was pouring out of his numerous cuts. He stared at Dumbledore's face, which was even paler than Draco's, with broken eyes as if begging him to get him out of this.

At that moment there were several renewed sounds of scuffling from below and a voice shouted, _"They've blocked the stairs – Reducto! REDUCTO!"_

Harry's heart leapt. They hadn't eliminated all opposition, but merely broken through the fight to the top of the tower, and, by the sound of it, created a barrier behind them—

"Now, Draco, quickly," Amycus said, sharing a look with his sister.

Draco's hand was shaking so badly that Harry doubted very much that even if Draco did try to kill Dumbledore, the spell would hit him.

A few moments of tense silence passed, and then Alecto jumped forward, "Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us could—" she said, but at that precise moment, the door to the tower burst open once again, and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept over the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf and Draco Malfoy.

Harry felt a feeling of relief wash over him as he stared at his father. Everything would be okay. Severus would save Dumbledore.

"We've got a problem, Snape," Amycus said, "the boy doesn't seem able—"

But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly, almost pleading.

"Severus…"

This sound frightened Harry more than anything else he had heard that night, including Dumbledore's faint voice while Harry had force fed him the potion. Harry felt something pass over him as if the spell keeping him frozen had weakened considerably.

Severus said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Draco aside, glaring at him. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed, and Harry found that his father looked more powerful that he had ever seen him before, standing tall, holding the entire outcome of the night in his hands, however he chose. Harry was glad to have him on his side.

Severus gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face – more hate than Harry had ever seen displayed in his father's face, making him look older. Harry frowned deeply, and wondered wildly what it could mean.

"Severus…please…"

Harry couldn't help but want to flinch at the sound of Dumbledore's weak voice, this allowed him to realize that he could move. But only barely.

What was it they were playing at? Was his father simply acting? Was he going to save Dumbledore like Harry had expected the moment he saw him? Had Harry been completely wrong to feel relief, or was this just Severus' way to get Dumbledore out of harm and keep his role as a spy?

Severus raised his wand.

Harry felt a deep feeling of dread wash over him as Dumbledore's spell weakened even more so that now Harry could move without a lot of effort. Why was the spell falling? Dumbledore was alright, was he not?

Severus pointed his wand at Dumbledore, and with an expression of pure hatred on his face, Severus muttered the two words that Harry had never wanted to hear uttered from those lips, "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry knew it was coming, but when the jet of green light shot out of his father's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest, Harry was shocked. He couldn't move. He could speak. He couldn't do anything. This time it was by his own doing. The spell Dumbledore had placed on him having fallen the moment the curse hit Dumbledore. So, he was forced to watch as his mentor was blasted into the air. For a split second, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shinning skull, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

"Out of here, quickly," Barked Snape in a voice so cold to the other Death Eaters – that was what he was to Harry, now, just another Death Eater out for his blood – without any semblance of not wanting to listen heeded immediately.

Snape grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck and pushed him towards the stairs ahead of him with a mutter that Harry did not catch. Greyback, and the brother and sister followed. Harry realized he could move at the same moment the last death eater reached the door. Harry flexed his fingers, threw his cloak off, and cast a nonverbal stunner at the Death Eater. He buckled and fell to the ground.

Harry clambered over him, and ran down the stairs. He had to go to Dumbledore's body, that was the most important thing, Harry realized, but didn't quite registered why he had to do that. He also had to catch up to his fa – no! That man was not his father! He needed to catch up to Snape.

He ran as fast as he could, jumping over steps, and trying at the same time not to topple to the ground.

When he reached the bottom, he continued running, ignoring everything around him. The fallen ceiling, the battle still raging before him, instead all that mattered was that Snape was turning the corner at the far end of the corridor, and that he and Draco had gotten through the battle unscathed. He ignored the call of his name by Ginny, and by Tonks. He only ran and ran, dodging spells and anything else that might harm him. He couldn't let Snape leave, he couldn't just let him disappear into the night and never receive an explanation. Had he been with the Death Eaters the entire time? Why had he tried to even be Harry's father when – Harry shook his head. No, he wouldn't think about that. Snape wasn't his father – James Potter was.

Harry felt someone throw themselves at him, but he waved his wand, without even thinking about a spell and felt a magical field come over him and push the Death Eater off him, against a wall. He ducked and ran, and waved his wand, without paying attention – a hex here, a curse there. His feet met something squashy and slippery on the floor and he stumbled. He caught himself looked down, only half registering that there were two bodies, face down on the ground, before he continued on.

He skidded around the corner and continued running as fast as he could, wondering if it was possible that somehow Snape had gotten away. He pelted toward a shortcut, hoping to overtake Snape if he went that way.

Minutes later he was leaping down the stairs, practically flying across the Entrance Hall. He could make them out, running down the same path he and Dumbledore had take earlier while leaving to get the Horcrux. That had been only hours ago, Harry realized.

Snape was muttering, with his wand raised and Harry realized he was disabling the wards. Harry muttered back and shot spells out to enforce them, to put wards of his own – he silently thanked Hermione for talking incessantly about the spells she found in the book he had given her for Christmas. He added as much as he could while he ran, trying to catch up, trying to hold them up. He would get his answers!

The cold night air ripped at Harry's lungs as he tore after them, as he kept muttering through his hard breathing adding as much protection to wards as he could even though he knew it would only hold Snape off for a few minutes.

And then there was Hagrid. Harry hoped he could hold them back at least until he got there. He had his umbrella pointed at Draco and Snape and he was trying to hurl spells at them. Draco was yelling at him, Snape was still trying to make the wards drop. Harry threw even more of his magic into the warding, surprised that Snape had not dropped everything he put up. Harry felt out for the wards and found that mostly everything that remained was his own. Surprised, he added even more support, and then he began to lock it and use his signature – it was ironic, that Snape had taught him how to do that, how to perfect that skill until no one but he could break his own spells, and then Harry fell to the ground and he felt someone running towards him. He turned, dropping his concentration from locking his wards.

"_Incarcerous!" _Harry yelled and watched as a nameless death eater was captured in ropes for a second, before getting to his feet, ignoring the wards, and sprinting forward. He was close, he was so close.

He tore past Hagrid toward them, and quickly threw a stunning spell at Draco's back. He fell, and Snape stopped, turning. He looked towards Draco, and then he saw Harry, and he stood still, not moving.

Harry looked at him, and found he didn't exactly know what to say to him.

Snape recovered first and waved his wand not at Harry, but Draco, bringing him out of Harry's spell, but never once allowing his eyes to leave Harry.

"Professor, please, we have to leave!" Draco shouted, the moment he was back on his feet and he made to move towards the gates that were just a few feet away – Harry had just caught up to them.

"How could you!" Harry yelled suddenly. "I trusted you!"

"You know nothing of what happened up there, boy!" Snape yelled back.

Harry moved closer, his wand pointed straight at Snape. "Oh, I know nothing of what happened? I was there. I saw you kill him, just like you killed mom and James! I should have known when I found out about that. I should have expected this. You were always a Death Eater, weren't you? You were always his slave."

Snape shook his head, and closed his eyes as if in pain. Harry ignored that and waved his wand, shooting out a blue light from his wand. Snape blocked it lazily and then walked forward. Harry pulled back so that there was space between them. Neither said anything, and then Harry felt a familiar pressure in his mind.

_Harry…_ a pained voice called inside his mind. Harry pushed Snape out as hard as he could and saw him flinch.

"No! You do not belong there, Snape!"

"What did you want, then, Harry? What do you want me to tell you? I did what had to be done!"

"Why?" Harry asked in a small whisper.

Snape didn't answer.

Harry threw another spell his way, this time Snape did not try to dodge it or block it, and Harry saw him shudder with pain.

"I hate you!" Harry yelled, and threw spell after spell, and Snape just took them as calmly as Dumbledore had talked to Draco up in the tower.

"Professor—" Harry heard Draco say in the background, but they both ignored him.

"You were my father!" Harry yelled and ignored the gasp that came from Draco. "You were supposed to be my father but you just threw me away the first moment you could…and then when it all came to light you allowed me to trust you….You allowed me to come to like you….You allowed me to believe that you were there for me, but you were just bringing me closer so you could give me to him, didn't you? I hate you so much. I wish – I wish you weren't my father…."

Harry took a deep breath before he finished with more anger than he had thought possible for him to feel, his voice almost a whisper he said, "I wish you were dead, and by the end of this war, you will be. I won't do it now….No. I want you to suffer. I want you to hate yourself for what you did. You are no father to me."

Harry saw a strange expression cross Snape and again he felt Snape brushing against his mind. He pushed him away as if he were just an errant lock of hair intent to cover his eyes. He looked at him one last time and saw a look of pure agony in his father's face, before Draco pulled at his arm and the two of them walked towards the gates. With a few waves of his wand, Harry lowered his wards and the others belonging to the castle and allowed them to leave, and then he put them back up a moment later, leaving off his signature just in case. The moment he knew they were no where near enough to him to hear him or see him he let out a scream. Then he was once again running.

He barely registered the fact that he had passed Hagrid, or that other death eaters were running to the gates, instead he focused on the second thing he had to do – find Dumbledore's body. As he ran, he noticed that a woman stood at the door to the castle, but he did not walk towards her, though he knew she had seen him.

It took him less than ten minutes to run to the bottom of the Astronomy tower, where the green skull still hung, displaying the fact that yes, someone had died up there. Harry looked around, quickly and found him. Spread-eagled, broken: the greatest wizard Harry had ever, or would ever, meet. Dumbledore's eyes were closed; but for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose, and wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve. Then he gazed down at the wise old face and tried to absorb the enormous and incomprehensible truth: that never again would Dumbledore speak to him, never again could he help…

Harry heard the crack of a twig and turned. Faye gasped behind him and knelt next to him, one hand covering her mouth, the other reaching for Dumbledore's hand, which she took.

"Oh—" she cried and Harry noticed at once that she was crying.

They knelt together in silence. It was a long time, until Harry moved, moped up the last of his tears and stood up, and then he remembered – the Horcrux. Where had Dumbledore put it?

Harry reached into Dumbledore's robes, and searched for it. He found a bag of lemon drops and couldn't help but let out a sad laugh. And then he had it – the locket. He stuffed it into his pocket before Faye could get a proper look at it and then he stood up. He offered Faye his hand and helped her to her feet. Within moments she composed herself.

"Who?" she asked.

Harry, who had just levitated Dumbledore up, turned to look at her. "I will kill him. I will avenge Dumbledore's death. He will pay. This I promise you, he will die."

"But who, Harry?" Faye asked.

Harry merely gave her a glance, before motioning for Dumbledore's body to float before him.

"My father," Harry said at last, adding when Faye looked at him with a mixture of befuddlement and concern, "Severus Snape."

**Author's Note: **Alright, so I know a lot of things are still open. like a thousand things, in fact but I really kind of felt that this was sort of a good closing for this fic, particularly with a sequel in the works (which is going pretty well, btw). For a long time I considered having Harry save Dumbledore from his fate, but that plot would have taken me to something else. I also heavily considered having Dumbledore die in the cave scene. Of course all of this lead me to doing it the way it was in the book for plot reasons on the sequel there was a scene that I just can't wait to write for the sequel.

Another thing I do want to address is the title for the sequel. I'm still completely unsure as to what I could possibly call it. I have a semblance of a plot which means I have scenes planned out and I know what will happen but I don't have a lot or for that matter details, so any suggestions that any of you have for titles would be appreciated. I want to give it the tone of the title for this fic and seeing as you guys all know, sort of, what will be addressed I'd love it if you had any ideas.

So far all you have been great. I didn't expect so many people to like it and to review religiously like some of you did (you know who you are) I also really liked the number of alerts and favorites this fic was on, and even if you didn't review, thank you so much for sticking with this fic and for just giving it some of your precious time. I really did love reading all the reviews you guys sent me as well as responding.

Like always, I'd love to hear what you thought about this chapter and any questions that you may want to have answered. (I might also have a small spoiler for the sequel for all of you that review this chapter)

Other than that I'm not sure when the sequel will be up. As soon as I get a title for it, I imagine. One to Two weeks. I will update this fic on the day I put up the first chapter so that you're all aware that it's up. You guys are wonderful and thank you again.

Love, Erika


	36. The Sequel

Hello again, everyone. Just here with an announcement for all you amazing readers. I hope those that reviewed enjoyed those two little previews to the sequel...

I finally have a title for the sequel which took a while for me to come up with.

That title is Ameliorating the Past

And seeing as I have the title and I have until three to do nothing I figured I might as well post the first chapter. So that is my announcement, the sequel will be up within the next ten minutes.

Hope all of you enjoyed this fic and I hope you enjoy the sequel.

-Erika


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